The Devil You Know
by Ealinesse
Summary: Sequel to WoM and SaSM. What happens when history repeats itself? What if, just like Avalanche, there were others unhappy with the way things were going, only for different reasons...? Detailed summary inside.
1. Default Chapter

**The Devil You Know,**

**By Ealinesse.**

**Disclaimer: **Anyone wanna give me Final Fantasy VII? And all the rights to Advent Children while they're at it, just so I can plot more evil Reffieness and not get sued? No? Sulks … One day maybe, lmfao, but definitely not now… … … I _do_ own a car though. So nyah!

**Warnings: **Potential language, like usual. Kiwi spelling, just 'cause. And maybe even some very blonde spelling moments…

**Summary: **Third story, whole new deal. Direct continuation of SaSM. … What if not everyone was happy with the way things were working out? What if there was a small group, much like Avalanche itself, that wanted to give what remained of Shinra a taste of its own medicine? What if they were feeding off a desperation, a desperation born of a hatred no longer relevant? What happens when you mix all these together with Yuffie, Reno, driving lessons and other such mayhem? Well, we're about to find out…

* * *

**Chapter One: **One hell of a day…

* * *

Procrastination was something one Yuffie Kisaragi was very good at. It was, as far as she was concerned, a very valid family trait that had run along her father's line for generations. Generally speaking, their bunch was of the attitude that if you had to do something, then you would damn-well do it when you felt like it, (or, in her case, when you had precious few hours remaining to get yourself ready). After all, if there weren't 'lazy' people, then there couldn't possibly be 'hasty' people, and _that_ was just absurd – just look at Staniv - and a very dumb point. Either way though, when all was said and done, it was in her genes. And that was _exactly_ why she found herself in the situation she was currently in now.

"What the _hell_ do you _mean_ my tops aren't dry? I put them in hours ago!"

Of course, it was also in her genes to be an impatient, overreacting Wutaian with a materia complex and a thing for threatening everything with her oversized shuriken. But then, nobody was perfect, and she was personally of the mind that if she could annoy someone with her faults, then at least she wouldn't be forgotten. Right away, at least.

Anyway.

"Since when does the term 'hours' qualify as a matter of minutes?"

Yuffie paused for a moment in her antics, some indefinable textile object hanging from a half-raised arm as she shot a glare at her aide before resuming the process of throwing things haphazardly into her bag, no longer caring whether the relatively _un_-select objects ended up crammed and rumpled. "Since I realised that I was leaving for Midgar tomorrow!"

"_And_," Staniv began, lifting both a finger and an ebony eyebrow, "since when have you decided that?"

"Since I realised that there is nothing to do here and I want to go visit Tifa and Cloud early, since for some _very_ bizarre reason I ended up missing her whole party, _since_ you're being such a busybody." That wasn't the reason, not really, but it would suffice for the moment. As an excuse, anyway.

"Bizarre is hardly the word for it."

Yuffie shrugged, not bothering to look up. "What about 'inconvenient', 'annoying', or 'just plain frustrating'?"

"What about, 'how about someone tells me what's going on before I start docking pay and travelling privileges'?" a new voice spoke up from the doorway.

Yuffie froze. Turned very slowly on her heel. Gaped her mouth like a carp in order to try and get words to come out. "Father," she said after a long minute, stepping quickly in front of her oversized backpack in order to try and conceal it with her slim frame. "I was just-"

"Packing?" Godo finished for her, the corner of his mouth twitching as he settled his bulk against the doorframe. "For where, pray tell?"

"Uh. _Well_, I meant to tell you…"

"Tell me what?"

"That I'm going to Midgar for a few days?" She framed the words like more of a question, quirking an anxious smile at her father in an attempt to win him over. "You know, I never visited Tifa for her birthday in the end, and although I did send her her present, I didn't really get to do it in person, ya know?"

"And you want to leave – again – just for that?" Godo's expression was dubious. "You called her on the PHS."

"Well, it's not _just_ that."

"Oh?"

Yuffie hid a scowl. She had always hated the way her father did that, made an otherwise innocent interjection sound like nothing but amused tolerance for a quirky daughter. Which she was. But damnit, that was besides the point! "Yes, _oh_," she retorted, resisting the urge to poke out her tongue. She settled for pulling a small slip out of her pocket instead. "I was thinking about doing this."

Godo stepped into the room and took the sheet of paper from her, unfolding it and skimming over it carefully. Yuffie watched him with a guarded gaze, cocking her head to the side as he finished reading, looking up at her with a vaguely mystified expression. There was a brief, unnerving silence where she thought her father was going to ask another question, one she wasn't quite equipped to explain as of yet, but he only handed the object back to her before fixing her with a wry expression.

"After all this time?" he asked. "_Now_ you want to learn?"

"I never said I didn't want to earlier, you know," she quipped.

"What happened to, _'if I ever have to even think about driving one of those box-on-wheels death traps after witnessing Barrett's freaky driving and having him crash us into a tree, twice, shoot me'?"_ Godo mimicked in a shrill mockery of a feminine voice.

Yuffie winced. "I got over it?"

"Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that."

Her father fixed her with a pointed stare, then swung his gaze to Staniv, who was just now leaving the room. Yuffie watched with growing trepidation as her father finally moved across to lean against the small table beside her bed, officially settling himself inside the room rather than on its outskirts. Involving himself in the situation, she realised.

"Why do I get the impression that there's more to this than meets the eye?"

Yuffie, for lack of a better reaction, rolled her eyes. "Because our family has this lovely way of getting into trouble wherever we go, and you're going to let me go anyway, so you're going to _quit asking _before you read too much into it?" She said all the words in one breath, leaning forward to tweak her father's nose in order to emphasise her last, rather hasty point.

For the second time this confrontation the corner of Godo's mouth twitched. He leaned forward, took the slip of paper from her hand again and scanned it a second time, as if trying to decipher some unknown riddle. "I suppose it would be handy," he murmured." And if you had your own vehicle you wouldn't get that bloody motion sickness, since you'd be driving yourself..."

"Someone did tell me that it helped," she offered.

"Someone?" Godo lifted a chubby hand and wiggled ring-clad fingers. "Several _someones_ have told you that over several _years_, my girl, and you never listened _then_."

"Perhaps I didn't believe them?"

"Perhaps not. But that doesn't answer why you believe this person."

"Perhaps I was given _incentive_?"

Godo raised a thick eyebrow. "Incentive, huh? Care to tell me who?"

_Shit._ _Shit, damn, shit, shit._ "Tifa," she lied smoothly, even while she regretted the fib. But at the moment it was a damn-sight better than admitting who had given it to her; that would just bring up too many questions, and _nobody_ questioned Tifa's motives. "She gave me that," she said, snatching the driver's token back off her father and pocketing it before he could return the favour. "And I think it's a good idea now. Besides, it'd be a shame to waste her money."

"And it wasn't a good idea to tell me before you left?"

Yuffie lifted her hands in a surrendering gesture, waving her hands around a couple of times for good measure. "I was going to tell you, but I'd pretty much forgotten about it and, well, _you_ know..." He did, she was sure. That dreaded gene was his, after all, even if she was just using it as an excuse to hide her reluctance to explain things to not only her father, but her friends...

"I _do,_" Godo returned after a moment, "but I'd rather you tell me these things before I find out about them in ways like this, that actually make me question whether I should let you go at all..."

"You're _kidding_," she said, stopping dead. A strange kind of disappointment filled her. Couldn't go? Ridiculous! Her father had never questioned her choices before, or her freedom, and he'd pretty much _said_ it was a good idea to learn to drive herself around instead of relying on the overly _un_reliable public transport system, no matter how quickly it was recovering from Meteor. Hell, he'd let her traipse all manner of places across the world for the better part of a year with Cloud and his crazy gang in order to save the world from a madman - or several - but wasn't willing to let her go a few hours east to brave the roads of Midgar?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep rumble of a laugh, one filled with amusement. "Actually, I am."

"So I can go?" Why was it that she couldn't keep the faint inkling of hope out of her voice?

"Of course you can," was the incredulous response, and Yuffie suddenly found herself enveloped in a warm hug. "But this time, you bring a PHS, you _tell _me where you're going to be and how long you're going to be away, and if you even _think_ about interfering with someone's missions just because you're curious, you remember that I'll not let you go anywhere else again if you do!" The otherwise fierce words were laced with a gentle amusement and something else, concern perhaps, and Yuffie nuzzled her face in the shoulder of her father's soft silken robes.

"Promise," she said, then ducked out of the embrace and picked up another handful of clothes. "Now let me pack, old man!"

But Godo just fixed her with a grin. "Not _quite_ yet," he said, and lifted a piece of paper from his own pocket. "There's just one more thing I've got to ask."

Yuffie blinked. "And... what is that?"

"My letting you go to Midgar isn't entirely without motive."

"It isn't."

"No."

Dread. That was the first thing that filled her as she was fixed with a cunning glance. Her father's 'motives', ever since he'd seemed to tire of the whole materia fascination after the end of the old Shinra and Meteor, had generally involved her attending a number of conferences and functions where nothing but a State presence was required. Which more often than not meant hours on end of boredom, mind-numbing old men speaking with monotones and fixing her with curious, speculative - often even lecherous - glances. She hated it, and just four months ago had told her father that she wasn't going to any such thing again. Still, she wasn't necessarily surprised when she read over the invitation she'd just been handed, so much as she was confused.

"What? _Reeve_ is holding a party?"

"Ugh," Godo said, flicking his arm in a gesture of disgust as he stood and made his way to the edge of the room again. "It's a _function_ to celebrate the anniversary of the third year of neoShinra."

Yuffie blinked. Again. "So, why don't you want to go?"

"_I_ have other meetings to see to. And since you're invited as well, you can officially attend for me."

Yuffie raised an eyebrow at that familiar tone. "Right. More like... you don't. Want. To go."

Godo glanced at her over his shoulder and winked. "Saw right through me. Reeve, despite how good he is at running his place, is someone that has _no_ idea how to throw a party. The first anniversary was more depressing than a funeral, and the second one was only a little better - at least there was alcohol that year. I'm not going until he learns. Besides," he added, "Tifa and company will be there, and since I assume you're going to be staying there, it won't be a problem for you. It will give you plenty of chances to catch up with the others, as well as a chance to make up for the fact you didn't quite manage to make it to her birthday in the end. Now, Yuff, if you'll excuse me I've got some work to do. Make sure you come and see me before you leave."

Not only did that make perfect sense, it actually sounded halfway appealing... Until she reached the large letters midway down the invite. She looked over at Staniv, who was re-entering the room, her eyes wide and her expression that of someone who was any minute now expecting a slow, agonising death. "Crap," she squeaked. "Crap, crap."

"Double crap?" her aide offered, stepping back through the doorway and fixing her with a mildly questioning glance.

"_Triple_. _Crap,_" she hissed, thrusting her arm out with a jerky motion and practically shoving the neatly decorated invitation-of-hell into the man's arms with disgust. "Read it!"

A short way down Staniv's dark eyes stopped, and a faint glimmer of mirth entered his eyes. "Ah," he said, slowly, drawing it out for an obvious effect. "Not only a function, but a _formal _function. _Official.__ Nice._"

"He didn't _say_ that! He said it was a party!" she fumed. "_Party_ is distinctly _different_ to _function_!" She darted out to the corridor, peering down the long hallway first one way and then the next in order to stop the 'culprit'. But he was long gone.

"Correction," Staniv said, halting her tirade and coming up beside her. "He said Reeve doesn't _know_ how to throw a party. He never said he was attempting one. Something about a function, I do believe."

"But it's _formal_!" she snapped, remembering the last formal thing she'd been forced to attend. "As in, I have to wear one of those annoying dresses and shoes and - and... _ugh_! Damn it." She ran a hand through her hair and for good measure jammed more clothes into her bag, unconsciously noting that it could fit at least several more items that size with the force she was putting into it. "I'm going to _kill_ that wily old man," she muttered.

But Staniv didn't miss a beat. "I guess this means you'll need more money, then? Perhaps a new dress? New shoes? Purse?-"

"-I will _not_ stoop so _low_ as to _take _a _purse_-!"

"-And maybe even some nice new clips for your hair?"

Yuffie switched her target, aiming the next set of clothes at Staniv's head as she mentally drew up a red bullseye. "And maybe you'd like my Conformer someplace nice? Like between your ribs?" she growled as she stalked out of the room toward the laundries in fury. She'd been expecting it to be a pretty cruisy couple of weeks in Midgar - short of the hurtling four-wheeled vehicles of doom, of course - but with this coming up the trip was already looking to begin on a downer. A formal function? Her? Someone was going to pay. Dearly. And with lots and lots of colourful bruises...

* * *

That person, it turned out, was her, despite the injustice of it all. Yuffie cradled her sore fist in her other arm and scowled at the door. It was fairly safe to say that _this_ hadn't been in her plans. (And no, she didn't have a plan, it just sounded better that way.) When it became plainly apparent that merely scowling at the offending entryway wouldn't work, she considered kicking it. _Considered_ being the operative word. She'd already hurt her fist by banging so damned hard and quite frankly she didn't think she needed to add another injury to the insult.

…The insult being that the door was still remaining stubbornly closed, of course…

"Damn it," she huffed, spinning around and settling herself down on the front step, dumping her baggage beside her. "Where the hell are they?"

She'd arrived from the skycab station via taxi about a half hour ago, paid the cabbie, and trudged up the ridiculously cliché concrete tile-paved pathway that halved the white-picket-fence-framed yard - complete with tulips – that made up Tifa and Cloud's Midgar home. Yuffie barely suppressed a snort of disgust. She doubted this place could look any more simple but for the concealed dojo under the house and the all-too up to date security system that broke the muted silence of domestication. But when she'd taken it up with Tifa, all she'd said in reply was a cryptic, _'I don't think I've ever had anything normal,'_ to which a nearby Cloud had somberly agreed.

… To which Cid had commented rather creatively that _nothing_ that clean was normal. To whom Barret had hypocritically sworn equally creatively at for having used his potty mouth in front of Marlene. To whom Marlene _maturely_ told to stop swearing or she'd wash his mouth out with soap.To which Nanaki had agreed. To which Vincent had very uncharacteristically broken the tension by saying that it was a very '_placid' _house. To which _she_ had, very typically, proclaimed boring on pain of death, commented that someone who'd lived in a coffin for a few decades couldn't possibly comment on appropriate _living_ décor, and sought to buy the couple the strangest housewarming present she'd been able to find…

And so now, here she was. Stuck in Midgar with a sore fist, a heavy bag, and a bad mood. And little-to-nowhere to stay if what she thought was the case, indeed was. She picked frustratedly at a patch of grass at the junction of a patch of dreary grey concrete, tearing a large clump - roots-and-all - out by accident when she tugged just a little too hard. "Shit," she muttered, looking up to make sure no one had seen her destruction, before discreetly dropping it back down and stomping it into the ground with her foot so it was less noticeable.

She sat there for another few minutes with the appropriately innocent expression of one who has done 'nothing' wrong, before deciding that it just wouldn't do. Yuffie got to her feet and walked up to the door again. Then she walked around to the side of the house, tried the side gate and found it locked. So she did what she normally did under the circumstances; she picked it. Another minute and she was in the back yard, another and she was at the back door. Which was just as locked. Which was weird. And the lights were off in the rooms she could see; which had been the same around the front when she'd checked when she'd first arrived.

Naturally, this only made her conclusion that the couple were out more concrete.

Yuffie swore again, using one of Barrett's choice phrases that he favoured in situations such as these – an unintelligible muttering that cursed not only various people's mothers, but their pet's sexual orientations, and just what they could do with them. That done, she headed back around to the front, re-locked the gate, hid all signs of tampering, and sat back down on the front step. And sighed.

It was only after her phone began to ring that it occurred to her that she had her PHS on her and could have easily called Tifa or Cloud to see where they were. After checking the number on the tiny display screen and confirming it as Cid, she clicked it open and held it to her ear.

"Kisaragi Airship Graveyard. You crash 'em we trash 'em! How can I help you?"

_"Very funny, brat," _the gravely voice crackled over the line. _"Care to tell me what the fuck's going on?"_

Yuffie blinked. "I don't know. What _is_ going on?"

There came a heavy sigh followed by several choice words. _"I _mean_, why am I getting a call from Spike's neighbours saying that there's a young Wutaian woman stalking around their property, picking the locks and making a fuckin' helluva racket banging on the doors?"_

She paled. Remembered the patch of grass she'd torn up and felt more guilty about that than the noise she'd been making. "Because there is?" she offered.

Another sigh. A muttered, _"Well, at least I leapt to the right fuckin' conclusion,"_ and then more swearing. _"Why_ _the hell're you doing that?" _eventually followed.

"Because I'min Midgar and I was dropping by?"

_"And you felt the need to knock so loud that the neighbours thought you were trying to bust down the door?"_

"Yes?"

_"Even when they're obviously not home?"_

"Yes?"

_"Didn't you know that they're on holiday?"_

"No?"

_"Damn it, Yuff! Stop that, it's annoying!"_

She grinned and cackled theatrically. "Yessir!"

_"Damn straight," _was the grudgingly amused reply. _"But seriously, stop snooping around their property. I don't want the neighbours on the other side calling me up again. I _told_ Cloud I'd let their neighbours have my number in case something came up, but _so far_ they've called about the postman, a kid on a bike, and now you. Next thing you know they'll be ringing up telling me that a stray dog is fuckin' pissing on a mailbox at the wrong trajectory! This whole 'good Samaritan' thing has it's limits... I _was_ sleeping, ya know."_

Yuffie assumed a thoroughly unconvinced expression. "Sleeping. At this time of the day." She glanced at her watch. "It's past one-thirty. In the afternoon."

_"I'm well aware of that."_

"And you were sleeping."

_"That's none of your damn business,"_ was Cid's hurried reply. _"And it's going to stay that way. So stop changing the subject. Cloud bought Tifa and himself plane tickets to Costa del Sol to celebrate her birthday privately. _That's_ why they're not home."_

"What? Why didn't they just take the Highwind? Or use the free subscription to the skycab? Or take one of Reeve's helicopters? Why a plane?"

_"You've got me there. No fuckin' idea. But this is Spike we're talking about. I've never been able to figure out that kid. Probably thought it was romantic or some pussy thing like that."_

"Go figure," she said, shaking her head. "So… "

_"They left last night, and aren't back for a few days."_

Murphy's law. Oh, how it loved her. "The day of Reeve's function," she guessed, dismay washing through her. "I suppose that's when they get back, isn't it?"

_"Yeah.__ How'd you gather that?"_

"Because it's typical," she groaned. "I gotta go, Cid. I'll talk to you later."

_"Sure thing, kid.__ Just don't destroy anything else. And leave their grass alone, it's never done anything to you."_

She'd already hung up by the time that last line had registered.

With a mournful sigh Yuffie dropped the phone down beside her and flopped back, laying down against the tiny space in the concrete stepping in front of the door. What was she supposed to do now? She'd pretty much counted on the fact that Tifa and Cloud were going to be home so she could stay here while she was in Midgar. Hell, she'd even gone as far to think out the explanation as to why she hadn't been able to make it to Tifa's birthday, not to mention the time in between just to make things a little easier. But now she found herself left hanging, with nothing to do and nowhere to stay. Perhaps she should have planned things out a little better…?

… Nah.

What was she supposed to do? She didn't know anyone else in Midgar well enough to stay with – well, except perhaps for _them_, and that wasn't really an option. Not at all. And Reeve wouldn't have time to put her up at his house. So that left one choice. A hotel. Well, that would give her something to do, for the moment at least.

Yuffie picked up her PHS, dialed the number for the Directory, and waited as patiently through the annoying Hold music as she could. When a distinctly high-pitched, feminine voice came across the line she tried her best to tolerate that too. What was with all female phone operators sounding like they were speaking through their ass?

_"Hello, Midgar PHS Directory. Deleise speaking. How may I serve you?"_

_Serve me? _She snickered. _Give me all of your materia and pull the peg off your nose, that's how, _Yuffie thought bluntly, but kept that to herself. "I need a hotel."

_"A hotel, ma'am?"_

"Yep."

_"Uh, okay." _There was a slight pause._ "Do you have any preferences as to which one?"_

Yuffie blinked. Did she know any of the names of hotels in Midgar? She thought hard for a second, then shrugged when she realised she no longer cared. "Any," she said eventually. "Just get me any hotel."

* * *

It was half an hour, several phone calls and two taxis later that Yuffie found herself standing in front of quite possibly one of the trashiest hotels she'd seen in a long time. Quite possibly since the slums were wiped out, actually. And even then that was pushing it… And then something else become apparent; the large neon sign outside the building said _nothing_ about a hotel. Oh no. All she could see was _'Midgar Motels'._

Yuffie twitched. A motel? She'd asked for a hotel, _any_ hotel, granted, but a hotel nonetheless. She growled in frustration. She had half a mind to ring up and bitch, but that wouldn't get her anywhere. And besides, she needed somewhere to stash her gear for the meantime, even if she didn't end up staying there in the end. It would have to do for now; what she would do for meals and the like would come later.

Yuffie trudged up the filthy steps and stepped through the revolving door, slinging her bag higher on her back as she eyed the rusted chrome railing and streaky, warped glass that made her look about twenty times wider than she really was. But it wasn't until she stepped up to the counter, eyed the horribly scratched and stained balsawood surface and the hardly definable blob settled behind it that she realised this place could easily compete with that horror-themed hotel in the Golden Saucer. Just her luck.

"Ya wen' aroon?"

Yuffie dropped her bag at her feet and watched as the blob-come-man resettled himself and fixed her with a tired gaze, an open-mouthed sneer showing too many discoloured teeth - or was that too little? - and large, slack lips. When she didn't answer, a thick eyebrow was raised and the slurred rumble permeated the air a second time.

"Did'ya hir me, gal? You wen' aroon?"

Recovering from an initial fright that shouldn't have even phased her, she kicked her bag along the floor a few paces until she was right before the front desk. Dragging her eyes off the sweat and Leviathan-only-knew-what-else ridden top, she nodded. "A room would be nice, thanks!"

The man mumbled something which sounded suspiciously like, "if you could call the rooms that," and yanked open a draw to the bureau in front of him. "Jes' the one key?" he asked, louder this time.

"Just the one," she confirmed, and moments later she was handed a swipe card. And here she had been half-expecting it to have been one of those old-fashioned, manual things. Well, at least the security was modern. But should she have felt the need to be worried about the fact that the place was practically falling down around her ears, the clerk looked like a sleazy serial killer, and yet they obviously felt the need to have hi-tech, lockable doors? She suppressed a shiver and decided to think about that later. Or not at all. One thing was for certain; she was going to be sleeping with her Conformer and a good dose of material under her pillow tonight.

As she headed toward the unlabeled hallway which she assumed was where the rooms were located, bag recovered and hugged close to her, Yuffie offered her most confident grin. "Thanks, man!" she threw over her shoulder, trying to lighten not only the oppressive mood hanging in the air, but her own.

A loud burp resonated down the corridor behind her.

She groaned. If the past few hours was a sign of things to come, this was going to be one hell of a trip… In every sense of the word.

* * *

It was always the same. Every single night he had off there was nothing good on his tv. No, wait – even nothing was an understatement. Infomercials were _worse _than_ nothing._ They were like the scum of the universe and it was like torture worse than anything he'd ever known to watch them. Yeah, that was the one.

Reno flicked the television off and laid back on his bed, closing his eyes and letting the remote control drop carelessly down beside him to be found another day in the massive tangle of sheets and blankets. He let out a long breath, tried to get his body to relax after the tedious day he'd spent guarding Reeve, but soon found his eyes wouldn't stop moving restlessly around under his eyelids, refusing to stay closed. Just fucking great. Overtired.

He didn't bother to try and buffer his body's attempts to get him up, but instead gave up early and slipped out from beneath the sheets, knowing from previous experience that nothing short of heavy alcohol or mind-altering drugs were going to put him out. Putting his feet to the floor Reno stood, and…

Fuck. Just what was he supposed to do now? It was well past eleven-o-clock, and as such there were very few things to do.

_Coffee first,_ his mind informed him frankly. _Coffee and cigarette(s)._

Well, the first one he certainly wasn't going to deny, especially if it was going to get rid of this lethargic feeling that came with knowing he really _should_ be sleeping… _Should._ He snickered and headed out of his room. He never had been fond of doing things he was supposed to. But then, everyone knew that…

Ten minutes later saw him with a boiled jug and one very absent bag of coffee beans. Where the hell had he put it? Reno rummaged through the various cupboards and draws in the kitchenette with all the fervency, frustration, and gravity that could have mistakenly been taken for a life and death situation to anyone who didn't know what he was looking for. When the cabinets had been emptied and everything that had previously had an inside had been relocated to the outside – and still nothing had turned up – Reno kicked the cupboard.

"Shit."

_Not shit, coffee_, a voice in his head helpfully reprimanded him. _And if no coffee, then cigarette(s)._

That sounded perfectly logical. And just one cigarette wouldn't matter…

Or cigarette… (s)…

Reno retrieved the near-full packet of smokes from a draw in his room and then proceeded outside, past the house in front of him to a spot just before the roadside pavement that had become his resident smoking spot. Seating himself down on the concrete and leaning himself back against the fence he lit up his cigarette and cast his eyes to the skyline. This was one of the main reasons he'd chosen a place here – and why Rude and Elena had soon followed. After living so many years under the plates, where even the insane amount of artificial lighting hadn't managed to pierce the darkness that was part of the life there, the ever-changing skyline and occasional obstructive webbing of construction was a small price to pay for the sight of a clear sky… something he'd only ever really seen when on a job while peering through the scope of a sniper rifle.

It was strange really, to think of this place as the one and the same Midgar. He honestly didn't know why Reeve and his coworkers had decided to keep something that sounded so depressing and only brought back memories of things that shouldn't have ever had to be. But then again, maybe that was why…

Reno took a particularly long drag on his cigarette, inhaling deeply then blowing it out through barely parted lips. He watched as the light breeze caught the filmy smoke and raked it through the air until it ribboned upward, then finally faded out altogether. The next puff signaled the end of the cigarette. With an offhand flick of his wrist Reno cast the butt out into the gutter, where it was quickly swept away by the sluggish flow of the drainage. Instead of heading inside like he usually did, however, he hung back for a while, feeling the light wind tousle his already wild hair.

It was almost relaxing watching the uneven flicker of lights as more and more of the population surrendered to sleep. For someone who had instinctually had his guard up for most of his life, and even more-so in later years, there was nothing that calmed him more than the security of being able to sit in the open and watch the world move by as it should do… With the placid silence broken only by the occasional traffic and the faint rustling of autumn leaves, rather than the rapport of a gun or a terrorised scream.

Reno curled his lip in disgust. Gods, he was getting poetic. He really was out of it.

He got to his feet with a grunt that represented more than his protesting muscles and cast one final look out over the buildings and the glitter of the new Midgar, ready to head inside. That was when he saw it.

Or should he have said _her… ?_

Reno stopped mid-pace and turned slowly on his heel with a raised eyebrow. Surely he _couldn't_ be seeing things? Here he was, out in the open late at night, and someone in the second floor of one of the accommodation places nearby was giving him a free peep show? In front of a large, balcony window? He smirked. Well, not intentionally of course, but a peep show nonetheless. Hell, not like he was even close enough to see anything, or even remotely distinguish features, or even know whether the hell he was merely looking at someone wearing a nearly flesh-coloured top or _what_, but he'd only come out for a smoke… This was just an added bonus…

His amusement was only heightened when said entertainment, (from what he could tell,) seemed to stumble slightly across the room, tripping on something. He laughed as the otherwise vertical figure became distinctly flat. A second eyebrow raised, joining the other one as the corner of his mouth twitched when the distinctly feminine body got back to its feet and proceeded to throw, for lack of a better word, a patty.

With an idle shake of his head, Reno settled himself back against the fence and lit up another smoke. Who needed television where there were idiots like this in the world… ?

* * *

She _knew_ she shouldn't have put that top in the dryer. She knew it before she even put it _in _the dryer. She knew it the moment she pulled it out of her bag and looked at it dubiously, thinking '_it could happen'_. She knew it even more, however, when she tried to pull it over her head and suddenly found herself stumbling across her room and into several pieces of furniture when it got stuck over her head, sending much of the room's trashy ornamentation crashing loudly to the ground.

Yuffie struggled futily with the offending item of clothing, catching her balance for a moment before accidentally catching her foot on the uneven carpeting. Her brief second of triumph faded into a yelp of fright as, unable to see anything, she let go of the fabric and cast her arms out in front of her to help break her fall…

Or break another vase. Either, either.

"Oww," she moaned when she finally rolled to a stop, feeling something uncomfortable and sharp jabbing into her ribs. Blinking open her eyes she affected a sigh of relief at making it in one piece, then a corresponding sigh of frustration as she realized she'd done nothing but break things since she'd entered the place. She scowled. But it wasn't like it was her fault that the floor was wonky, and the crazily-patterned (and horribly old-fashioned) carpet created an illusion of smoothness. So much so that she'd already grazed her knees several times, stubbed her toe, not to mention the palms of her hands...

And now she'd ruined more things. Though judging by the age of some of the décor now lying in pieces, she wasn't sure that it would be counted as a crime…

Yuffie sat up, pulled at the top that was still embarrassingly stuck to her head, then gave up. With a growl of frustration that would have made any feral Behemoth proud she ripped the fabric down the middle, all the way through until it slipped off her head. Rubbing the back of her neck she got to her feet, blinked around at the extra mess she'd just made, then threw the felonious tee at the window in revulsion, before—

Oh, _shit._

_Why_ on _earth_ had she _not_ pulled the _curtains_?

She reacted instinctually after that, darting to the side towards her bag and out of the immediate range of anyone that might have happened upon her blunder. Yanking a top out of her pack – and making sure it would fit this time – she tugged it over her head and on second thought pulled her jacket on over that. After hanging around this place all afternoon and then sleeping away most of the evening by accident, she needed some fresh air. And some food; she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and her stomach was threatening to leap out of her throat and abandon her in punishment.

Ignoring the thoughts she'd had earlier about the security of the area she was in, Yuffie stepped outside her room and locked her door - but not before tucking her Conformer and a couple more of her throwing stars into her jacket for good measure. Taking the steps two at a time and zipping out the door just as fast to avoid the creepy counter-blob, she was outside in an instant and walking down the street. She was sure she'd seen a take-out shop when she'd been in the taxi earlier, and _any_ food right now was sounding appealing. Even something that looked like it belonged in Hojo's lab more than her mouth…

She'd just reached the corner of that same block when the hairs began to prickle on the back of her neck. Yuffie's pace slowed and she instinctually made her footfalls stealthier in order to try and pick up what had alerted her. After a couple of quick glances around she spotted a tall silhouette leaning casually against a fence just outside reach of the lamplight a few metres away, the ruby glow of a cigarette the only distinction in the hazy figure. With dread she felt her earlier thoughts come back. Her concealed arm snaked into her jacket and she felt the reassuring cold steel of her Conformer settled for easy access in her waistband. Feeling now that she was ready for anything, she tightened her grip on the shuriken and hastened her steps.

… But all of that preparation became distinctly unnecessary when one very familiar figure stepped out into the eerie white of the street lighting with a deep chuckle, icy cerulean eyes glinting sharply and one eyebrow raised as one equally familiar, confident smirk tugged at a dual-scarred face.

"You know, _brat_, we have _got_ to stop meeting like this."

Yuffie jumped quite possibly the highest she'd ever done so in her life. One hell of a trip? Man, more like one hell of a day…

_TBC…_

* * *

_Notes: Well, here I am. I said it would probably happen, and (gasp!) it did – another story, and a whole chapter, too. I hadn't actually intended of putting this out until I'd at least furthered my ideas for the rest of the story, but when I checked back on and saw all your wonderful reviews _and_ just how long it had been since I'd even posted anything, I thought, 'meh, what the hell!' So here we go… _

_Also, before I comment on anything else, I'd like to say a massive THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed my fics; whether it be Word of Mouth, Smoke and Shattered Mirrors, or whatever. I write with feedback in mind as much as any ideas, and I'm so stoaked to see that the last chapters were received so well! I was honestly blown away with the amount of reviews for the last chapter, especially! So, again, THANK YOU EVERYONE. _

_This fic has unfortunately taken quite a while to kick into motion. The ideas I'd had since the end of Smoke and Shattered Mirrors are the same ones I've still got, but the plot is coming to me a little slow. The majority of it is pretty sussed out, but it's the details I'm still trying to beat into shape. So, like always, please bear with me. I'm not sure how long it will be until next chapter – though, I think at least that is organized – but it will come out, if not a little later than usual. (SORRY!) So until then, think of this as a 'teaser chapter' of sorts, just to show you that I am still alive and writing, after all!_

_And, like always, don't forget the feedback! Me being a greedy author I can honestly say that more reviews might make me get my ass into gear a little faster, ne? J/k! ;)_

_Until next time!_

_Ealinesse. _

_**REVIEW FEEDBACK FROM SMOKE AND SHATTERED MIRRORS**:_

_Angel Yuffie: Thank you so much! And just like you asked, the sequel. For some reason at the time I didn't find 3 chapters in 3 days so daunting… I think I just really wanted to get it out and finished instead of making everyone wait so long, like I sometimes tend to do. I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you like this fic just as much! _

_The Inimitable DA: Waves back Sighs in relief that she didn't get rocks hurled at her And typical? Reno and Yuffie? Wouldn't dream of it, and I try and steer free of things that are too cliché. It is Reno and Yuffie after all, wouldn't want to make them too predictable, ne? _

_The Burning Misery: Write. Another. Sequel? Points Am. Writing. Another. Sequel. ;)_

_Eternal Wanderer: You're right, I do find minor characters annoying. It's sometimes hard to make them fill out the (often mediocre) roles they're required to, while still giving them enough character so they have their own… well, character. It's the same with Yuffie and Reno's 'weaknesses'. Since FFVII was a game with a very involving plot that left room only for major characters, and very little for the minor – or in this case optional – ones, I'd like to think that it isn't necessarily that Reno and Yuffie are 'weaker' than in the game, more than it's the fact that, though it is only fandomized, we know 'more' about them. I'm not saying that my characters aren't weaker, they very likely are since I'm trying to humanize them, I'm just hoping that I haven't gone overboard and made them too pansy for their own good, ya get me? _

_Alixen__: Once again, thank you. Here you go. _

_Riyue__: Good news? How about great news to me, seeing as I thought I was going to end up being too lazy to write it? ;)_

_Tijuana Pirate: Holy #$, girl! I never quite know what to say to your reviews! I read them and half the time I just sit there with this goofy grin on my face. Well, at least I know this – I'm SO happy you weren't disappointed in the ending. For some reason I picked up a little anticipation from a bunch of reviewers over-enthusiasm winkwinknudgenudge to get the couple together by the end of this fic. Naturally, the fact that I had already not only sorted out this ending, but dealt with that months ago, made me anxious as to how the already-concrete finale was going to be taken. But, you know, you may have been "positively GLOWING" from the ending, but I am "POSITIVELY GLOWING" from reading your review upon realizing that the disappointment wasn't there after all. Your thorough reviews and insane amount of feedback always makes my day, so I hope you're still hanging out for this next one! Much glompage Again, thank you soooo much! _

_Kawaiikitsuen42: Well, here's the sequel! Enjoy! _

_Solaria735: Okay, first of all --- replace the 'hopeful' with the word 'definite' and you've got it right. ;) There _will_ be a relationship between Reno and Yuffie. However, I never said when, and like a reviewer commented, it isn't going to be easy _or_ orthodox. Well, at least, I'm not planning on making it that way anyway. And you're right… I left it open-ended deliberately. I was quite pleased with how it came out, and I wrote it that way in case I ever decided to not write a sequel… because at least that way it hinted at at least _something_ remotely plausible. And once again, thank you oh-so-muchly for your comments regarding my dialogue, character relationships, and especially characterization. I slug away at Reno and Yuffie for ages sometimes just trying to slam some scenes into shape, so at least the effort pays off! I've tried, like you said, to make Yuffie not too naïve, and a little more mature than we see her in the game. I've also tried to make there a little more to Reno than meets the eye. I'm glad that I've succeeded in someone's POV. Arigatou! _

_Miss Kitty: Make your week? blush wow…_

_DracoTelitha__: A total turn around from Word of Mouth indeed. And as you can see, trilogy definitely. Series? Well, let's just see where this one takes us, first, ne? _

_Xtreme__ Nuisance: squee SEQUAL right here ;)_

_Fyria__: You stayed up until 2? As in 2 am? Jeez…And stunning? Shit… And you say your comments "don't mean much"? Man, it's things like that that just make me want to get the next chapter out so much faster than my fingers are able to type! Reno and Yuffie, Elena and Rude spot-on, as well? You flatter my characterization _way_ too much. But I thank you anyway! I just hope you like this chapter, even though there aren't any action scenes. cough … as of yet…! ;)_

_Aim2: Well, I'm glad you find them amusing. Sometimes when writing them I do too. Thanks for your review, and, voila, here is the sequel!_

_Prelude of Darkness: grin Thank you! I hope you like this one just as much! And "develop the non-stop bickering relationship of those 'kids'"? Heh, we'll see… _

_Akai Kuu: That is a. Long. Review. When I emailed you back I forgot how long it took me to reply to it. I think I just remembered. ;) But yeah, there's very little point in me replying here since I'll see you on MSN, AAAAND since you've already read this chapter. But, just for that, I think I should say a.) _thaaaaaaaank_ you _so_ much for your review… and b.) review this chapter anyway because… well… just because. ;) And, again, OF COURSE there is charm in insanity! You wouldn't talk to me otherwise! deadpan ;)_


	2. Of Stalkers and Takeout

**The Devil You Know,**

**By Ealinesse.**

**Disclaimer: **Anyone wanna give me Final Fantasy VII? And all the rights to Advent Children while they're at it, just so I can plot more evil Reffieness and not get sued? No? –Sulks- … One day maybe, lmfao, but definitely not now… … … I _do_ own a car though. So nyah!

**Warnings: **Potential language, like usual. Kiwi spelling, just 'cause. And maybe even some very blonde spelling moments…

**Summary: **Third story, whole new deal. Direct continuation of SaSM. … What if not everyone was happy with the way things were working out? What if there was a small group, much like Avalanche itself, that wanted to give what remained of Shinra a taste of its own medicine? What if they were feeding off a desperation, a desperation born of a hatred no longer relevant? What happens when you mix all these together with Yuffie, Reno, driving lessons and other such mayhem? Well, we're about to find out…

* * *

**Chapter Two: _Of stalkers and take-out_ **…

* * *

"You know, _brat_, we have _got_ to stop meeting like this." 

Yuffie stared, unblinking as Reno stepped out in front her, hands jammed deep into pockets, pose painfully casual. No, wait. Staring, at that point, was an understatement - and quite ineffective in the near-dark. For a moment all she found herself capable of was alternating between opening her mouth and squeaking, which may certainly have accurately conveyed her surprise, but did absolutely jack about alleviating her situation. And with good reason – he did have the element of surprise up his… err, no sleeves; Singlet. In his hand, then.

Reno, to his credit, appeared unfazed. "What's the matter, squirt, did the roaches at that seedy motel eat your tongue?"

Yuffie paled, then turned a bright crimson at the words. Her embarrassment upped a few levels and she found her mouth gaping considerably wider. Had he… seen her? She whipped around on her heel and glanced sharply upward in the direction of the motel, realizing with disgust and much horror that the one-block distance did very little to hide the fact that light could be seen peeking out from between two very distinct curtains. The only light on the second floor currently turned on.

… Namely because she was the only person staying on the second floor. Possibly even in the entire scungy motel.

Yuffie turned back to Reno, her expression flickering somewhere in between complete mortification and anger. It was one thing for some stranger to see her… like that… but another thing for _him_, a Turk, an assassin, a – a – an all-round _asshole_ to—

"_You_ _saw me…_" she eventually spat out, voice flat, all moral and civil attempts at conversation forgotten. "You-"

"Spotted you walking out of the motel?" Reno's voice was giving nothing away. If there even was anything to give away in the first place. Annoying bastard.

"You didn't…see…?"

"Didn't see what?" Reno returned flippantly, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and flicking some glowing ashes into the nearby gutter, before drawing it back into his mouth and inhaling once more. "See you walk out of the motel? I just _said_ I did, brat. Have the roaches been nibbling on your eardrums and brain, as well?"

Yuffie's eyes narrowed as she analyzed Reno's expression. He looked like… well, aside from the amused twitch at the corner of his mouth and the raised eyebrow that set his face in its usual guarded smirk, he didn't look like he was lying. But then, who knew with Reno? He was a man that had single-handedly killed people without so much as blinking, it had been his _job_ for Leviathan's sake, and he'd even gone as far as to drop an entire plate on a part of a city…

… And she was trusting his answer to be the truth?

Ugh.

"Oi, brat, anyone home?"

"You saw me walk out of the entrance?" she asked slowly, flipping away the hand waving itself in front of her face.

Reno sighed in exasperation and pointed somewhere off in the distance behind her. "Is there an echo around here? _Yes,_ I saw you leave _Right.__ There._"

Yuffie followed Reno's arm, noticing with some relief that the walkway to the motel was plainly visible from where they now stood. Not only that, but the fluorescent lighting of the motel's entrance sign did a good job of illuminating the immediate area. So much so that it would have been possible to spot anyone remotely familiar making their way toward them… even from that far away. Plausible.

She blinked and turned back to Reno, who was looking at her with an amused kind of curiosity. "So you didn't…uh…?"

"Didn't what?"

She blinked again; shrugged, deciding it was time to move past _that_ particular little issue if Reno was delightedly ignorant. "Nothing," she replied hastily, fixing the Turk with a roll of her eyes and a dismissive wave. "I'm just overtired. Fell asleep earlier, now I've got nothing to eat or drink. Hence the late-night outing."

"You don't say." Reno raised an eyebrow but didn't look up from his cigarette. "Then of course there's the matter of why you're staying at that motel _at all_. Rats have better hovels."

Yuffie groaned at the reminder. "I got as far as booking my skycab ticket to Midgar, and I knew I'd probably forget to tell Father I was leaving, but I can't _believe_ I didn't ring Tifa to see if she was home," she muttered, slapping her hands to her face and dragging them down it in irritation.

"I'd believe it."

Yuffie's hands stopped halfway down her face at the sarcastic tone. She glared. "Was that comment absolutely necessary?" she mumbled out from beneath her hands. "Looks like I'm already paying for being disorganized, thank you very much."

Reno smirked. "Looks more like I'm having problems with a stalker, to me."

"A stalker?!"

The smirk deepened.

Yuffie ground her teeth together so tightly that her jaw began to ache. "A stalker," she spat out eventually. "What on _earth_ gave you an idea as flattering as that?"

Reno snorted and shot her a blunt look.

She scowled. "Would you care to put that into words, Turk?"

"No, I don't think so. It goes without saying, really…"

Even still, she couldn't seem to move past Reno's dumb idea. To think _he'd_ have the audacity to even _consider_ her as the stalker type. And _him_ of all people. She pondered sputtering theatrically in indignation for a few seconds before counting slowly to ten, breathing in and out in order to let her frustration vent. She was nearly back to her normal levels of 'calm' when Reno chose to add to his sentence.

"… I can't help that I'm just undeniably attractive."

That was very close to the final straw. Actually, scratch that, it was. Yuffie strode forward and for a moment contemplated simply poking Reno in the eye, seeing as he seemed to be enjoying smirking at her with _that look_ so much this evening. Instead she settled for reaching up and snatching the half-finished cigarette from between Reno's lips and dropping it to the ground, crushing it out with her foot with jerky, overemphatic movements.

"Bad habit," she said sweetly, trying out a smirk of her own.

Reno, again, was unfazed. "Supposed to be quitting, anyway," he replied smoothly, dropping the hand that had been holding the smoke to his mouth and settling it behind his head, where he proceeded to lean even back against the large wooden fence that framed the property behind him. "And by the way, stop smirking, the expression doesn't suit you."

If growling like a rabid dog on crack was at all possible for a human, Yuffie came close to achieving it then. "Perhaps that's because I don't walk around _wearing_ said expression all day."

"And a good thing, too, otherwise your face might just stick that way, and then whose ridiculously overemotional face would I mock?"

Yuffie blinked and jammed a hand onto her hip. "I am _not_ overemotional."

"Hormonal?"

"No."

"Psychotic?"

"Nope!"

"Maniacal?"

"… Isn't that you?"

Reno's eyebrow twitched. "Have you been sharpening your tongue to a file point since I saw you last?"

"Yes. For fun. I find it helps me deal with completely egotistical idiots that have inflated heads and freaky eyes…"

"… Sarcasm also doesn't suit you."

... Kicking Reno sounded good. Actually, so did tearing her hair out and jamming it down his overactive throat all the way to his vocal chords. It had been a bad day and she was taking no hostages. She honestly didn't know why she was being so acerbic – then again, it probably had a great deal to do with the over-energetic skycab, the discovery that Tifa wasn't going to be in Midgar after all, and the bed that no sane human should ever have to sleep on. _And_, to think that this was the same guy that she had lugged across various fields and forests because she had been worried about what might have happened to him if she'd just left him to rot.

"Don't you have someplace else to be, Turkey?" she said eventually, not really meaning it, but not really caring at the same time. "People to taunt, lives to destroy and all that jazz?"

"Eh, Not unless you count home."

"How about going there?"

"How about thinking before you speak?"

Yuffie turned back to face Reno. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, c'mon, Yuff. Think. _Why_ would I be sitting out on the street in Midgar in the dead hours of the night?"

"Because you're a strange, confusing Turk with a disturbing, psychotic hobby and one whacked-out job?"

Again with the eyebrow. "Try again."

Yuffie already had a pretty good idea of what Reno was talking about, but being forward with someone who didn't know the definition of the word was not something she was about to do. However, having Reno simply confirm it like that was taking all the fun out of it, and before she knew what she was doing she'd taken a couple of steps to the left – just enough to peer into the driveway she'd avoided earlier – and begun examining the nearby surroundings. Or, more importantly, the little she could see of them.

Needless to say, once she'd finished raking her eyes over the garage, the plain lawn, the hanging garden, and the simple red brick of the house, she found herself peculiarly disappointed.

"You don't live here," she said before she could stop herself, and clapped her hands over her mouth yet again in embarrassment as if to try and snatch back what she'd just said.

Reno laughed, a short sound that held more amusement at her antics than at what she'd really said. "I what?"

"Uh, nothing?"

"I don't live here? Is this where you spit out some cheesy stalker line like _'I know where you live'_?"

Yuffie briefly caught herself thinking about what that driving token would look like sticking out of Reno's nose, or better yet, his eyeball, but she quelled the urge to follow through. She'd been having too many murderous cravings lately.

Perhaps it was the company she'd been keeping…

"_No,_" she said slowly, " I was just thinking that this doesn't look like… uh…"

"A place a Turk would live?" Reno finished for her, wryly.

Yuffie cast a look at Reno out of the corner of her eye. "Kind of?"

Reno tipped his head back against the fence and rolled his gaze toward her. "What were you expecting, a pothole in the ground? Sewer rats chewing on my toes and fleas hopping about the yard? A secret, undercround cave beneath the city where I plot all of my evil deeds with the rest of Shinra's remaining minions?"

"No, but-"

"Or, even better, leeches and cockroaches swarming around the windows, chewing on discarded body parts and rotten flesh?"

"Ugh." She winced at the mental image. "Leeches don't live on solid land, idiot," she retorted bluntly.

"Okay, oh, Wise Woman, where do normal humans live then?"

"Houses."

"… So…?"

"_So_, Turk, you're not normal by any sense of the word."

Reno snorted and pulled out another cigarette. "Touché."

Yuffie eyed the cigarette with disgust. "You know, I didn't steal your last cigarette to have you light up another one."

"And?"

"_And_ you're supposed to be quitting."

Reno fixed her with a disgusted look. "What _are_ you, my mother?"

"I'm not sure I even want to know whether you had a mother, or if you were spat out by some contraption that went horribly wrong, like Cid seems to think…"

"I had a _mother_, smartass. She was short. About your height. Bossy."

"I am _not_ short."

"Shorter than several people I know."

"I'm _Wutaian_."

Reno just smirked.

"Ugh, why am I still talking to you?!"

"I believe we've covered that already, Yuff."

"Oh _really_, and what conclusion did _we_ come to?"

"That I was just so undeniably attractive."

_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe o—_

"And that's your reason for stalking me; somehow managing to find me _wherever_ I go, whether it be skycab or industrial graveyard, alleyway or bloody mission _in_ an alleyway."

_… _

_… Forget breathing. _She'd blush when she wasn't feeling quite so pissy. "Can I help it that you're like a bad smell?" she said testily.

"A bad smell," Reno mused, drawing a long drag on his cigarette and letting it out a few seconds later. "That's a good one."

"I thought so."

"Then of course there's the fact that it's _you_ who generally always finds _me_, and we have a problem. Obviously, you like that rancid stink and follow it…"

Yuffie was about to think of yet another annoyed response, when a loud gurgling sound broke through the air. It took her a second to realize that it was coming from the general vicinity of… her stomach. Yuffie's eyes widened, and she was suddenly reminded of the reason she'd tried to wake herself up and leave the motel in the first place. Another reason for her sour mood. There was another distorted rumble in concurrence.

Reno eyed her stomach with a somewhat mystified expression – if that was even possible for someone who seemed to spend most of his days laughing at other peoples misfortunes as a second calling – then flicked his eyes up to meet hers. "Hungry?" he asked, a crooked grin curling one corner of his lip.

"Pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"Well your stomach is making that pretty damn plain."

"Obviously." There was another persistent gurgle in the encroaching silence, and Yuffie bit back her embarrassment as the noise proceeded to taper out over several seconds. Forget thinking about leaping out of her throat, judging by how loud that had been her stomach was already halfway there…

"You know, Yuff, I hate to break it to you, but I think you'd better feed that thing before it grows teeth and decides to chew its way out."

She would have laughed at Reno's response, or perhaps come up with something smart in response, but a.) she was too embarrassed that her stomach seemed to have somehow (selfishly) turned the conversation around to itself, and b.) she was inclined to agree with him. She was getting that headachy feeling that came without having eaten in a long time, and since she'd experienced that feeling all too recently while gallivanting around in the Junon shrubbery with Reno, she didn't really want to head in that direction again for a long, long time. Yuffie Kisaragi was someone that treasured her food – except in moving vehicles, where she was often forced to meet with it a second time – and despite her size, she had often out-eaten Cid (and on the odd occasion, Barrett), in competition.

"Ya know, Turkey, I hate to say it, but I think you're right." Yuffie pressed a hand against her stomach as if that was going to shut up its incessant rumbling, and looked around with a searching expression. "So… is there anywhere I can get food in this place?"

"In Midgar? Yes. In _this_ particular neighbourhood, at this time of night…?"

Yuffie prepared to groan as the doubtful tone in Reno's voice prepared her for disappointment.

Reno pointed. "Two blocks that way, and one to the right. You can't miss the hideous signs that Eric has sitting out the front. They glow like no Mako reactor ever could…"

Yuffie ignored the smartass response. "And you're sure it's still open? What, at--" she pressed the light on her watch "—eleven-fifty?"

"Trust me, he'll be open. It's where we get food after missions, among other things."

"We?"

Reno fixed her with a funny look. "Rude and 'Laney. Who else?"

Yuffie blinked. "You mean… they live here, too?"

Reno swung his arm around to the brick house. "That's theirs."

"As in theirs and not yours?"

"Yes."

"I thought you said this was your home."

Reno raised an eyebrow. "It is."

Blink, copy his expression. Blink once more for the hell of it. "And so where do you live, then?"

But the Turk just leaned forward and leered. "Why do you want to know?"

Reno's face, suddenly very close to hers, was just a little _too_ much so for comfort. Yuffie took a step backward before she could stop herself, trying to force her defences back up like they had been for most of the night and finding them a little slow to come to the call. "So I can make a point to avoid it in future?" she bit back…

Eventually.

"And you've done a really good job of it so far."

"Because I didn't know where you live and couldn't make a point to avoid it, now could I?"

"… You're not a very convincing liar, are you? You still haven't really answered my original question, and it's probably not helping me put one and one together to make three, you know."

"And what question was that?"

"Why you chose _that_ particular hotel. Surely, of all the places in Midgar, someone of _your_ descent could afford something a little… less rabid."

"_Motel_," she groaned, reminded of her carelessness on the phone conversation earlier, blaming the pathetic (obviously blonde) telephone operator for taking her a little too literally.

"Okay, motel," Reno acquiesced. "Stop focusing on the wrong part of the question."

She poked out her tongue, for some reason feeling a little more at ease by doing so, and shrugged. "I rung up directory, asked for a hotel, and got this."

"_A_ hotel?"

"_A_, as in _any_. Like I didn't care at the time."

"You didn't even give any preferences? Man, no wonder you got stuck with that hunk of crap. Steve only does what he has to to keep that place legal, and that isn't anything beyond signing the monthly licenses and paying his tax. For such a new building, it's fucking old-fashioned, and sleazy as all hell."

"Steve?" she asked.

"Yeah, the guy that owns the place. Short. Squat. So round I'm not sure he has legs anymore."

"The counter blob?"

Reno snorted. "That'll be the one. Stinks of alcohol, and appears to feed his ruddy singlet as much as himself. Has what he calls an 'accent', but it's really nothing more than the consumption of alcohol on a continual basis making him slur everything together 'like people from Junon'… "

A shiver rippled down her spine. "Same guy."

"Yeah, well… what do you expect from an original slum dropout? Everyone's gotta make a living somehow. You do what you can."

Something about that line struck a chord with Yuffie. Something about the way Reno had said that line was off, distorted somehow. But when she tried to read the Turk's expression she couldn't see anything beyond the usual. His eyes, like always, glimmered with a dry amusement, and the set of his mouth was nothing but an indistinguishable line. Despite that, it appeared—

That her stomach was not willing to wait any longer.

Yuffie squeezed her hand tighter in her jacket and pressed harder over the offending organ in a pathetic attempt to appease its forsaken rumbling. All thoughts of anything but food forgotten, she jerked her head in the direction of Reno had pointed her in earlier. "You said… two blocks that way, then one to the right?"

"Glowing signs. Eric's place."

"And it'll be open?"

"Trust me."

She snorted and turned away, flicking an ironic glance over her shoulder as she began walking. "Nice one."

"It is at that," Reno replied, dropping the arm from behind his head and bringing both forward to cross loosely over his chest as he watched her go.

And the strange thing about that, she would remember later, was the way that the goodbye was as comfortable as it would have been with any of her friends. There were no strained words, no awkward or uneasy exchanges and nervous laughs. They didn't even say anything so much as a 'see you later' – she just left. And the even weirder thing about _that_ was that _she'd_ been the one to initiate the farewell in the first place.

Yuffie frowned. That was… interesting, and perhaps a little unnerving. That she could part ways with someone that had tried to kill her on numerous occasions with the faint knowledge that she was going to meet him again. And, quite possibly, not hate that fact, either.

No matter what she said out loud.

Again, interesting.

She wondered what the rest of the day held in store for her.

* * *

As it so happened, those ten minutes turned out surprisingly uneventful, but for her tripping over a stray brick and grazing her knee for quite possibly the thousandth time that day. Yuffie got to her feet and cast her eyes around her, dusting herself off and glaring down at the chipped, battered, and otherwise inconspicuous lump of clay as if it had just committed one of the most atrocious sins in the entire world. 

Which it had. Yuffie, much like the case with her food, took her dignity very seriously.

… It was just a pity most other people didn't.

Thankfully, no one appeared to be around. Because of that – and _only_ because of that – Yuffie stomped down on the urge to kick the living crap out of the brick and fixed her gaze straight ahead of her, blowing her breath out between clamped teeth. She also resisted looking down at the knee of her pants and the palms of her hands. Since she had again resumed walking there was a suspicious draft flowing against her left knee which hadn't been there before, and she felt that if she peeked down at it that damned brick probably wouldn't stand a chance. Nor would her big toe.

Or any nearby window, that would undoubtedly meet intimately with the block. Hard.

As it turned out, the debatably existent life of the brick was saved by the bell. Or the lights, as it were. Apparently Reno had been right – the shop was easy to distinguish. 'Easy' being the operative word, and perhaps the understatement of the century. The place was lit up well enough to make a blind man see – a good thing considering the doubts cast upon her navigation skills by _helpful_ people like Cid - and it reminded her of one of those estranged pine trees she'd seen fairly strangled with lights and gaudy ornaments while in Midgar once on one of their overly cliché public holidays.

She stepped up to the door, feeling as if she should have been forcibly squinting through the unnatural glare of the lights, turned the handle and pushed. She grunted in vague annoyance when she was met with the resistance that more often than not betokened a locked door. She pushed again. Scowled. Pushed again, remembering Reno's assurances that it would _not_ be closed. Grunted. Was halfway through pushing _yet again_ when she spotted something she normally would have noticed straight away. Shooting a dark look at the 'Pull' sign that pretty much said _don't you dare say 'I told you so'_, Yuffie yanked the door open and stepped inside.

A blast of heat met her as she entered the small shop. But it wasn't the contrasting warmth compared to that of outside that made the door swing shut and hit her butt when she found herself standing numbly in the doorway. No, it was the way that everything about the place screamed 'slums'. Marginally confused and feeling as if she'd just stepped back several years in time, Yuffie shuffled into the room and cast her eyes about her, soaking up the old-fashioned posters and dim, neon lighting, wondering why she felt so creeped out. It wasn't like the place was filthy – its simplicity was far from it – but the way the dull reflective metal of the roof cast domineering shadows over even the many luminous string-lights made her wonder whether she'd turn around and suddenly find someone like Hojo standing behind her, leering. Or find Sephiroth lurking around the corner… Reno, smirking, EMR held to her throat…

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Yuffie jumped and spun, cursing her inattention and idiocy at her lack of sense tonight, and grinned. "Hey!"

The man standing at the counter winked and nodded in the general vicinity of the room. "Something familiar?"

She nodded and shrugged offhandedly. "Just reminding me of something, is all," she said quickly. "Nothing important."

"I see." The middle-aged man, nametag reading 'Eric', wiped his hands on his white apron, raising both eyebrows expectantly. "So, you looking for some food?"

"Yeah… Turkey boy said you'd be open…?"

"Turkey boy?"

Yuffie blinked and ducked her head. "Er… Reno," she said. "Sorry. Force of habit."

But the man wasn't worried about that. "You know Reno?" he asked, tossing some stray blonde hair out of his eyes with a quick jerk of his neck that was vaguely familiar.

"Mmhmm," she replied. "A little."

"Friend?"

_Well, actually,_ she felt like saying_, we've tried to kill each other on several occasions, and nobody ever knows where the hell they stand with him, but yeah! _Instead, she shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. He sent me down here just now, said you'd be open."

"From out of town, are you?"

"Mmhmm!"

Eric opened his mouth as if to ask something else and a puzzled, thoughtful look came into his eyes, but Yuffie, seeing this, beat him to it.

"So… what's good here?" She looked up at the menu, written across a blackboard in more of that fluorescent ink. "I haven't eaten all day and I'm starved!"

Eric seemed to shrug off whatever he was going to say and glanced up at the boards behind him. "Well, what do you feel like?"

She offered a sheepish grin. "Anything?"

"… Anything?"

She pursed her lips, thoughtful, remembering with a slight shudder just where _that_ particular word had ended her up earlier today. "Well, okay, not really anything. Something warm. Nibbly. Nothing too strong. Crunchy… Uh…" She paused. Her eyes strolled down the list and she felt her mouth begin to water as she struck gold. "Aha! Chips!"

Eric looked back at her as if that was one of the most absurd things he'd heard in a long time. "Just chips? That all?"

"Yeah. With sauce, though, of course."

Eric disappeared from view as he crouched behind the counter. "The sauces are here."

Yuffie mimicked the man's movements and ducked down, finding that underneath the formica of the counter's top was actually a display case for various impulse purchases. She eyed the range of sauces through the glass, clicking her tongue idly as the options turned in her mind. Ordinary old ketchup sounded good – it was one of the few sauces originating from Junon that she could stomach - as did sweet chilli. She tipped her head to the side, lifting a finger and twirling it in the air; her brain couldn't decide, so another body part was going to have to. As the movement of her hand passed over the chilli again came the telltale watering of her mouth.

She glanced at Eric through the glass and jabbed her finger in the direction of one of the packets. "That one, behind the honey mustard."

"The s.c.?"

"Yep."

Eric slid the cupboard open and pulled out a couple of small sachets. He didn't stand straight away, but kept looking at her through the double-layer of glass. "Say," he said slowly, eyes narrowing slightly, "I've been trying to place it, but you look familiar somehow."

Yuffie resisted the urge to sigh. _Ugh_, _I hate it when this happens._ She'd been blissfully lacking in people recognizing her for various reasons as of late – either because of her being the daughter of Wutai's leader, or for her involvement with Avalanche and the downfall of Sephiroth – but she hadn't missed the attention. Her father had always made a conscious effort to keep her out of the spotlight for years due to the inconvenience and trouble it had caused her family in the past, and it was namely because of that that no one had even heard hide nor hair about her wandering from home when she was sixteen until she joined Avalanche and practically threw herself into oncoming media. It had been unavoidable then – it was Midgar, after all – but things had died down finally in the past year or so, and the wake had calmed.

The glint in this 'Eric's' eye was no different to one she'd seen many times, and she had to admit she'd been lucky to avoid any press regarding the past few dramas. It never got any easier – or less annoying. Domestic attention was one thing; having little white spots in front of your eyes from the seemingly eternal flash of a reporter's camera, or finding your name printed in a bold heading above the name of some critical journalist who was a lot better at picking out her faults than his/her own, was another.

She supposed that had to have been a good thing about the old Midgar being taken down – most of the world's most notorious newspapers and networks had simply ceased to exist. Still – she turned her head to the side a little and let some of her hair fall down over her face – there were the occasional people like this. And she'd never quite known how to take it – she didn't quite have Cid's lack of regard for civility, or Barrett's 'eloquent' way with words, or Cloud or Tifa's cool. So she did what she usually did…

She winged it.

"I'm not sure?" she shot back. "Familiar features to someone you know, perhaps?"

"No, that wouldn't be it. I don't know any Wutaian women."

"Oh," she said, shrugging. "Well then, I'm not sure. Anyway!" She slapped her hand against her stomach once again as it let out another – this time convenient – gurgle. "I'm starved! How long do your chips take?"

The man stood and placed the sachets on the table and flicked his wrist at the board, still not taking his eyes off hers. "Depends. Normal fries? Say, five minutes. Wedges – either Cajun or plain? Ten, twelve minutes?"

In her mind's eye, time-wise, those wedges didn't stand a chance. "Fries," she said almost automatically, and Eric nodded and turned away, swiping a large pack of frozen chips out of the freezer while absently turning some dials on the range behind him.

"How much to you want? Half a scoop?"

"How big are they?"

"The scoops?"

"Yeah."

Eric lifted the measuring scoop for the chips and made a cutting gesture about halfway up the container. "That's half a scoop."

Yuffie stared at the 'scoop', then shook her head. "More."

"One scoop?"

"Nah, more. Erm—"

"One and a half?"

She shook her head. "Two, I think, would just about do it."

"_Two_ scoops?" Eric looked her up and down, disbelieving. "This is just for you, isn't it? Not for Reno and the others, too, since you're staying with them?"

Yuffie's felt her jaw unhinge, and she was sure if it was physically possible it would have dropped to the floor and shattered, or perhaps even rolled and rattled around uncomfortably in the silence that followed. "_Staying_ with them?" she asked, shaking her head emphatically, realizing that was probably what Eric had been going to ask when she'd changed the subject. "Nonono… I'm staying at a motel, and I fell asleep and haven't eaten all day… that's why I'm ordering so much! I didn't realize it was so late, that's all… "

"Ah." Eric nodded, frowning a little at her hurried reply. "I just assumed you were since you were in this neighbourhood, after all. Being friends with them, and things."

_Assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups,_ she thought absently, wondering just where she'd heard that. Probably Cid. Or Barrett. Swearing really was their forte…

For a moment there was an uncomfortable pause, then Eric seemed to shake himself out of whatever nosy kind of puzzlement he had been previously stuck on. "So… seasoning?"

"Uh…" she murmured, putting a finger to her lips and happy for the sudden subject change. "Chicken."

"You got it."

She sat down and occupied herself with the magazine stand, distractedly pulling one off at random. She wasn't surprised to see a picture of Reeve on the cover, showing him conversing with Cloud. She checked the date upon seeing Cloud's slightly shorter hair, finding it well over a year and a half old. She put it down, tempted to shake her head at the speculatory headline that accompanied the picture. Really. The world had to know better.

She was about to try her luck for one of the yellowed newspapers when Eric's low baritone spoke out over the spit and hiss of the oil.

"So, girl… ? How _do_ you know Reno then?"

There were a few seconds where she had absolutely no idea what to say, and she was strangely glad that this 'Eric' man was faced away from her so she could hide her initial surprise. _Like it's any of his business_, she thought wryly, tucking her hand back into her lap, though with the way the man had been taking the conversation she knew it had to have been coming. "Through a mutual friend," she settled on eventually, willing to keep the conversation to anything just short of the truth. "Of a sort."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. A bunch of us met them through him." She smirked, and added, "none of us really hit it off to start with, though. A lot of stress from the whole Sephiroth deal, ya know, too busy trying to look out for our own butts. It quietened down a little after that fiasco… a bit. Got the chance to know each other a little."

"I see."

"Yeah, nothing like a little bit of a life and death situation to make a couple of enemies work together," she muttered under her breath, wishing the chips would hurry up and cook themselves, or, even better, just leap right into her stomach. She was grumpy, damn it, and she wasn't in the mood to play twenty que—

"So you're just here on a holiday?"

"Kind of." She swallowed a sigh and reached into her pocket, opened her wallet and flashed the driving coupon at him. "Driving lessons."

"In Midgar?" She was fixed with a wry look, and another expression she couldn't quite place. "Oh dear…"

Yuffie blinked. "'Oh dear'?"

Eric shrugged. "It's a good place to learn to drive, I'll give you that. But it gets busy."

She paled; to be honest she hadn't put a great deal of thought toward the actual lessons yet. She'd planned on panicking when she got there, since there wasn't a lot she could do beforehand. "Oh… well, they were kind of a gift."

"Ah, well. It'll give you good driving experience."

She shuddered at the word 'experience'. She'd had enough bad memories of traveling without adding her own limited knowledge into the proverbial honey pot. But what could she do? It _would_ be handy…

"Eh, don't worry about it!"

"Sorry?"

Eric offered her a brief wink. "You'll be fine. The driving companies aren't allowed to take you on the freeways your first few times, and that's where it really gets chaotic."

"Thank Leviathan," she sighed, with a nervous laugh, running a hand through her hair. "Because I'd probably be the one to cause most of the chaos."

"Any experience is good experience," was the cryptic reply before Eric turned away again, flicked a couple of dials on the deep fryer, pulled out the wire-grilled basket and set it out on a large metal tray. "And driving is handy," he continued, shaking the fries free of excess oil. "You don't have to rely on other people. Or the public transport system, which is still working out its kinks."

She didn't reply, just watched as her chips were dispatched onto a roll of newsprint, rolled up, salted, seasoned, and then taped on one end. The parcel was slid across the bench toward her, the sauce sachets placed on top.

"There you go, ma'am."

She stood and stepped up to the bench, grinning. She fished her wallet out of her pants. "How much?"

"Two hundred gil, usually, but since Reno sent you this way, perhaps… one hundred."

Her grin widened and she pulled her card out of its slot, handing it over. "How do _you_ know him?"

Eric raised his eyebrow at her, shaking his head. "I'd imagine you'll find out sooner or later," he said, swiping the card and putting the purchase through before handing it back. "But it's a long story, and not one for telling now. Your stomach probably won't sit through it."

She was almost tempted to comment that _he'd_ been nosy enough to find out about _her_ connections to Reno and that he could at least reciprocate a little, but then immediately realized it shouldn't have mattered. What business was it of hers, anyway?

Her stomach gurgled its concurrence, long and loud.

"See?" Eric said, smiling. "It'd probably be a good idea to feed the beast. Undoubtedly I'll see you again before too long."

Puzzled, she nodded, wondering if the man was just that confident in his product or what. "Sure," she said, taking the card back and pocketing it with her wallet. She turned to go, shoving the thought from her mind. This man had her curious with his curious oddness, but right now food came first. She placed her hand on the handle of the door, set to go.

"Aha!"

Yuffie turned on her heel and cocked her head. "Hm?" she asked. "Forget something?"

"No." Eric was frowning, but there was a puzzled smile on his face. "I just remembered who you look like."

She blinked. "Thought ya said you didn't know any Wutaian women?"

"I don't. But you look awfully like that… uh… like Godo's daughter. What's her name…?"

She smiled, resigned. "Kisaragi Yuffie?"

"That's the one. You look like her, now that I think about it--"

She lifted one hand, about to do the traditional half-bow of her people, say something along the lines of 'damn, sprung', but was instead cut off by the remainder of Eric's words.

"—But you couldn't possibly be. She's not that tall. Looks quite short in the photos compared to the rest of those Avalanche people…"

Yuffie very nearly facefaulted. _Two_ comments on her height in the space of an evening? Unheard of!

"Something wrong? Haven't you been told that before?"

She shook her head, pulling off a cheeky grin. "Yeah, all the time," she laughed, pulling on the door handle. "Too often, really. The fame gets annoying." She winked, yanking the door again. _What the—_

"Push it and it should open."

She sighed, reigned in her temper, tucking the comforting warmth of the chips into her arm, and pushed. The door swung open. At the rate she was going the whole world was going to think she was a brainless ditz. "I knew that."

"Sure you did, kid," Eric laughed.

"Have a good evening!"

"Morning."

"Have a good morning!" she reiterated.

"You too. Enjoy."

The chips were already ripped open and on their way down her throat by the time those last words were out.

* * *

"So, you going to share those?" 

The chip stopped halfway to her mouth. She looked up, not really surprised to see Reno standing before her again. It wasn't like she'd expected him to have gone, but then it wasn't like she'd really expected him to hang around outside, either. He must really be bored. Or something. Who knew; he did live here after all.

"Well, brat?"

Yuffie shot Reno a dubious glance and purposely swallowed the chip she'd been holding. "You have a whole house-full of food, Turk," she muttered around a mouthful of processed potato. "What makes these so special?"

Reno snorted. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that forbidden fruit is twice as appealing?"

She rolled her eyes and kept the roll of chips where they were – nestled under her arm. Warm. Cosy. _Safe_. "You're not really convincing me, ya know."

"Who said I had to convince you?"

"Reverse psychology? I thought intimidation was a Turk's best weapon?"

The corner of Reno's mouth twitched.

Yuffie popped another chip into her mouth.

Reno smirked. "You know, I could have sent you to the other take-out store around here that isn't nearly as good as Eric's."

"Still not convinced. The food you have inside is probably three times better than chips."

"Probably," Reno acquiesced. "But then I'd have to go inside and get something when I could just steal yours."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said, reaching into the packet, getting out two chips and taking a bite. "It's not a very good idea."

"Why?" Reno took a threatening step closer. "Possessive of your food?"

She shrugged and grinned. "Something like that. I haven't eaten all day."

"And I haven't had any coffee all day."

"I knew you were screwed up, Turkey, but let me tell you now that fried potato with sweet chilli is _no_ substitute for caffeine of any sort."

Reno wiggled his hand in a so-so gesture and took another step closer, bringing him to within just over a metre of her. He twitched a grin. "I'll take what I can get."

"Really."

"Yep."

"Go for it."

They moved at the same time – Yuffie spun to the left as Reno's arm shot out to grab for the packet. She grinned triumphantly as the action brought her closer to her motel, the open stretch now unobstructed. She spun around to face Reno as a crow of victory flew from her lips, chips still tucked under her arms, when he made another grab for them. She jumped backward, ready to flip and spin if necessary, but found the loose gravel of the driveway had other plans.

As if in some cheesy scene from a bad movie time seemed to slow down as her right foot skidded backward mid-leap. She pinwheeled her arms desperately in order to stay on her feet and before she'd realized it the chips were tossed up in the air, forgotten, and she was tipping backward, and—

"Ow, damn it!" Yuffie rubbed at her sore backside, which was undoubtedly going to be one big bruise tomorrow.

"Elegant."

She looked up at Reno from her spot on the cold off-shoot of the driveway and scowled. "Any more accurate observations you want to make, Turk?"

Reno brought the steaming packet of chips into plain sight, smirked, then pulled a couple out. "Yeah, actually," he said, eyeing the fries before turning his gaze back to her. He tossed one into the air and caught it with his mouth without any apparent conscious effort. "These chips are damned good."

"Theif!"

"That the pot calling the kettle black, now, isn't it?"

Yuffie was halfway through her rather eloquent sputtering when there came the loud popping that was commonly associated with tyres on shingle, the sound of a running engine, and the oncoming beam of two very close headlights. Her screech of protest quickly turned into one of surprise as the black car slammed to a halt several inches from her nose, dust kicking up from behind the tyres and swirling in the air as an abrupt silence followed.

Then Elena stuck her head out of the driver's window, her initial expression of shock quickly turned into a grin as she flicked a long strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Oops, sorry about that!" she said, scratching at the back of her head. "I didn't see you there – not many people take to sitting on our driveway, ya know?"

* * *

_Author's Notes: Weehee! Another chapter done. Sorry about the lack of action and the slightly random ending, but this story's a little wonky in the formatting and is going to undoubtedly take a while to do it's little proverbial "kick-start" thing of doom. Sooo, until then, I hope you'll all bear with me. _

_Also! –dies- This chapter's review count? Holy $! 21 reviews? 21!! Seriously, it's no problem replying to all these at the bottom of the fic, but even the length of most of the reviews left me sitting there, once again, with that silly little grin on my face that betokens a good review. I just couldn't believe how many of you decided to review. And I still can't. That's why I'm still feckin' going on about it, because, you guys? Well, you all so totally rock! Enough said. XD_

_OH!! And, more importantly, before I go, I'm going to use my 'Author's Notes' powers of deductive evil and plug two Reffie ficlets I've read recently. Why? Because it's hard to find good Reffies. It's also hard to find good Reffie one-shots. And, it's even harder to find good Reffie one-shots on At. All. _

_So, without further adieu:_

_1.) "Royal Flush" by Akai Kuu. This fic is bloody hilarious. Yuffie and Reno's witty dialogue just goes back and forth, and it gets funnier and funnier. The characterisation of the two is just gorgeous, and, I can't stress enough, the dialogue. Because, come on, we all know we love the witty exchanges that are possible for the two. _

_2.) "His Kingdom For A Chocobo" by The Inimitable DA. Anyone who wants to see the equivalent of an FFVII Christmas hinted Reffie, well… you know where to go. Because, just like I said to DA, let's face it – the idea of Reno going to the trouble to get Yuffie one simply present is enough to make the average reader –Squee- with a capital 'S'. XD_

_Response to Reviews:_

_Fyria__: Eek! Well, I'm bubbling that you even managed to scrape up the energy to read this chapter after being out all day. Thank you for your compliments on my characterisation of Godo! I kind of see him as similar to Yuffie herself, only more mature, seeing as there has to be someplace she got her quirky-ness from. And, well, seeing as there's no canon mother in the picture I figured it was easier to blame it on the dad. ;) And nope! No 'placid silence', just noise, arguing with Yuffie, and more stuff-ups for the brat. Goody. But apologies for the lack of action. Again. This fic might take a little while to kick-start. The sooner we get to the formal function, the better… XD_

_Tijuana__ Pirate: -waves right back at you- Weehee!! Thank you, again, for your 'glowing' at my ending. Like my ego needed another stroke. ;) And yes, Yuffie's being pretty impromptu, isn't she? Just think how much easier she would have had it if she'd checked up on Cloud and Tifa. Hehe… Cigarette…(s). I'm not sure what compelled me to put that in there, but I felt it necessary as Reno's conscience would probably try and urge him to have more than one cigarette…(s). ;) And –glomps- thanks also for your lovely comments on the Reno-POV scene. It was kind of… lethargic writing that, but I felt I had to write a little of __Reno__ in order to a.) get back into the swing of things, and b.) demonstrate just what he'd been up to as well as Yuffie, seeing most of these chapters have focussed around her. Anyways, hope you liked this one! _

_Solaria735: I'm glad you agree on my rather, err, time-consuming approach to these stories. I'd actually anticipated I was going to get a lot more angry readers at the end of the last story than I did. At all. I was quite shocked with how well the ending was received, because I know people want me to put them together. And the only thing I can really say after that is "not quite yet – let me mess with them a little more". XD _

_S. Rena Valentine: Omg!! … Thank you for reviewing. _

_The Burning Misery: Yes, Finally. I'm glad you liked the first chapter. I think I should say now, since you commented on the light-heartedness, that this story isin fact, going to be a little lighter. Mostly. But that's understandable. Yuffie and __Reno__ no longer have anyone chasing them, Yuffie's dad isn't missing, and they're both 'off duty', as it were. So that's one reason. Haha – the phone call with Cid was fun to write. I'd actually written the conversation with Cid a lot more straightforward than that, but when I read through it right afterward I realised there wasn't near enough 'Cid-slang' for my liking. And we couldn't have that – that's what makes Cid so damned fun. ;) And one-shot? –dies- I don't even think I'm capable of a one-shot. These damn chapters just keep getting longer! Oh, and, threat duly noted. This chapter, obviously, is up. So I'll take your "or else" and apply it to this coming one, too, okies? _

_Crystaline__ Dragon: Haha! I loved that bit in the game, too! Theiving bloody Kisaragi's, the lot of them. XD Thank you for your comment regarding Godo's characterisation – it's the second one I've had so I'm glad that people are receiving him well; it's always good to know when people like your characters! _

_Kawaii__ Rin-chan: Yes'm, this is the sequel. XD An hour to read it? –dies- Wow… I mean, I know you said you were doing other stuff while reading it, but it's still awfully long, isn't it? I'd hate to see what all these review responses are doing to my word count, huh? –laughs- Thank you for reviewing!_

_Kawaiikitsune42: -hugs- Well I couldn't not write a sequel after getting this far, eh? Don't worry, there's plenty more to come yet! _

_Burger: Nope, not dead! Just hibernating. ;) Thank you for your comments! Taking minor characters from things is always fun – there's less to work with and more left there for creative license. It's great– but I owe even the idea of these stories to those who started the Reffie pairing in the first place. And thank you! –curtseys- The plot is taking mucho hammering. _

_Mr__ Hypochondriac: I'm one of THOSE, huh? –cracks up- Man, seriously, the things some people say are going to go to my head one day, and it's going to inflate to the size of a balloon, lol. And yes, the first chapter is quite strange in the way that __Reno__ and Yuffie meet up quite early on in a despicably 'coincidental' way. But I'd planned that knowing this – because that's quite a bit of what this story's going to be about, so much so that it's going to become a running joke for the two. I won't explain further otherwise I'll either give you baaad spoilers in advance, or completely ruin your confidence in me, lol, but I assure you, despite how icky it was, it's there for a rather (obscure) reason. XD And yes…(s)… __Reno__'s anti-conscience thing was fun. Everybody loves giving __Reno__ a little bit of grief, so why should his own mind miss out on the fun? ;) And sankyuuu for your chibi-reviews of Enough and What __A Way__ To Spend An Evening! I'm stoaked that you enjoyed them. _

_Miss Kitty: -dies- at your usage of the word 'perfect'. –head threatens to implode- Yeesh, well, I know they're not perfect, but it's still fun to write them, nonetheless. And you're right – the bit with the window was fun! (Even if Yuffie's just a little to naïve about some things for her own good! XD)_

_Tamzin__ Summers: Whee for sequels! ;) And I'm glad you liked it – and also that you're "waiting patiently" for the next chapter. You'd be one of the few that hasn't said something like, "Update soon! Please! Please!!" ;)_

_Silverburner__: Where this one goes? –cackles- We'll see. ;) And you know what? You're totally right that there's not enough Reffie-ness. There's not even enough Reffie-ness for my liking. But, unfortunately, I chose the slow way, and it's just the way the cookie crumbles. –sighs- Don't worry! I'll get there! Sometime. Soon, hopefully. ;)_

_Eternal Wanderer: I did indeed. Ah, well, as to the 'over 10, 000 words' thing? –dies- This story has now reached all-new levels of lengthy-ness. It's –bound- to be over 14, 000 by now, even without adding all these review replies. Lol. And you're right – Yuffie seems to bring this luck back down on herself. Even if it seems to be being repaid to her tenfold in this chapter. –laughs- Poor girl. She's going to want to never go to Midgar again at the rate she'd going. ;) And, again, you're right. Early chapters are there to set the stage, as well as the initial moods, among other things. This one's the same – getting back into the swing of things and dragging other characters in for the ride. Joy of joys. ;) And, if I still can't hammer this plot, I might just take you up on that offer, but so far it's behaving. Just. _

_The Inimitable DA: Whee! You're right, it got knocked off the first page. ;) And like I said, when I saw the Review Alert in my email Inbox and how it was about 14kb in size, I kind of –twitched- as I do, and then blinked a few times. ;) But anyways! –Prods- Hope you liked this chapter, even though you've already read it. _

_Akai Kuu: -curtseys- -hands you a nametag that has her ffnet penname scribbled on it- there! So you remember! And I don't know. Nope, I don't think he swears or smokes in the game, and yes'm! 'Tis horribly cliché, but __Reno__ just totally hits me as a smoker, and someone that appreciates a good swear word just like me. –snerk- _

_Paddy's-tsunami: You read BOTH of those in one sitting? Are your eyes sore? They haven't fallen out of your head, have they? Hehe, "OMFG" is suffient for a review, yes, but the one you left me is even better. I'm glad you're enjoying the characterisation, too! There's nothing quite like writing a chapter and getting reviews like this, especially when you hear they like the way you've written the players. XD And yes, the relationship is going slow. Very slow. Bu-ut, if you strangle me, then I can't get the next one out! J/k. ;) Proverbially strangle me as much as you like, lol, if it's going to get that frustration out of the way. And, totally,WAY more tennis-paced dialogue in this chapter than in the last, I assure you! Hope you enjoyed it! _

_Yuffie__ Kisaragi2: Gravy indeed. ;) Le update is here. _

_Angel Yuffie: -does the happy dance with you- I'm just stoaked I managed to get the next chapter out! -has updated- Enjoy!_

_Crystal__ Snowflakes: Thanks! Obviously, here's the next chapter! ;) Hope it's not too dull for your liking. XD_

_AshleyYata__: Thank ye. And romance? Well, you need to specify, really. ;) J/k. Yes, there will be. But we have to get to it. And then there's the matter of when. In case you haven't noticed, it's not moving fast between these two, and we need to create a teensy wee bit of meddling with other characters before we get to that point. So, until then, cross your fingers and toes for me! I want to get to the Reffie bits, too, let me assure you. :)_

_… … Until next time!_

_-- Ealinesse, (who is cursing incessantly at ffnet for taking out all of herfeckin' smiliesfrom her review responses upon her document upload, but is too lazy to replace them.). _


	3. A Day of Firsts

**The Devil You Know,**

**By Ealinesse.**

**Disclaimer: **Anyone wanna give me Final Fantasy VII? No? … Didn't think so. Standard disclaimers apply – I not own, I not make profit, yada yada…

**Warnings: **Potential language, like usual. Kiwi spelling, just 'cause. And maybe even some very blonde spelling moments…

**Summary: **Third story, whole new deal. Direct continuation of SaSM. … What if not everyone was happy with the way things were working out? What if there was a small group, much like Avalanche itself, that wanted to give what remained of Shinra a taste of its own medicine? What if they were feeding off a desperation born of a hatred no longer relevant? … What happens  
when you mix all these together with Yuffie, Reno, driving lessons and other such mayhem? Well, we're about to find out…

(Note: While this story runs after the timeline of Final Fantasy VII, it does _not_ encompass any of the prequels or sequels such as Before Crisis, Advent Children, etcetera.)

* * *

**Chapter Three: _A day of firsts_ **…

* * *

Elena switched the ignition off to the car and pocketed the keys, casting a brief, amused glance at Rude, her partner and fellow Turk-in-crime, before opening the door and leaning out. She grinned, seeing Yuffie's marginally shell-shocked expression and Reno's one of smug content as he chewed, _loudly_, on a chip. Elena rolled her eyes and flicked a piece of hair out of her face. "Oops?" she said, scratching at the back of her head and fixing Yuffie with an apologetic look. "I didn't see you there – not many people take to sitting on our driveway, ya know?"

"Especially at twelve-fifteen at night," came the vaguely amused rumble from beside her.

Elena shrugged and stepped out of the car, closed the door and leaned against it. Rude came around to stand next to her.

"So," she said, as neutrally and casually as she could under the obviously rather strange circumstances that had somehow led to having a certain member of Avalanche on her butt on their driveway… with their car inches from her nose. With the way Reno was eating those chips, though, it didn't take very much imagination to guess what had happened. And Elena personally knew – and had been told numerous times, - that she did, in fact, have one hell of an imagination. That was what made her such an avid matchmaker, after all.

Yuffie seemed to recover somewhat at this point and got to her feet, dusting loose dirt and shingle off her as if she were shedding a layer of skin. Her hands moved in quick, furious gestures. She looked set to say something when it 'fell' to Reno to step forward; he tossed a chip into the air, and caught it in his mouth.

"Nothing really," he said, shrugging one shoulder in that irritatingly nonchalant gesture he seemed so fond of. A lazy grin played at the corners of his lips. "The brat came along and pretty much fucking dive tackled me for my chips."

"And I suppose it was only because of your Mako whip-snap reflexes you saved yourself, huh, Reno?"

"'Course. Shortstuff didn't stand a chance."

She should have known better than to expect a serious answer by now, Elena realized with a shake of her head. She turned to Yuffie, heard the rabid curses and death threats being issued under her breath, and confirmed her initial suspicions. She bit back a sigh. "Reno, give Yuffie her food back."

Reno pulled out another chip and set it on his bottom lip. His glowing eyes found Elena's, then Yuffie's, and there was a definite provoking quirk to them as he swallowed it back. Yuffie omitted an indignant squeak, and Elena swore to god she was going to spank Reno so hard he was going to be sent back to where he belonged – pre-school.

"_Reno." _Elena strode forward, pulled herself up to her whole five feet five inches – (five foot seven, 'regulation' boots included) – and cuffed her smirking partner upside the head. "You know, I don't think I need to tell you this again, but I will: for someone whose job it is nowadays to guard the president and citizens of Midgar, you spend a little too much time terrorizing innocent people."

"Pff, she's obviously about as innocent as a Behemoth walking into a mall with a handbag. And you're right, you didn't need to tell me."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Well, you needed it."

"I suppose I needed you to hit me over the head, too?"

"Why not? Sometimes it takes a little bit to kick-start your conscience."

Reno snorted, shooting Rude a withering look before turning back to the blonde. "Conscience?" A long running joke between the two, Reno had often gone (and still did go) out of his way to make peoples lives a living hell. But to anyone who knew the tenacious redhead…

"Yeah. You have a conscience. It's just hiding in the same place your manners are," Elena scoffed. "Don't make me rattle off examples – and you know they're there," she added with a furtive glance at Yuffie – ooh, she was going to get her ass kicked later -, "I've been pushing paperwork for Reeve all night and I'm not in the mood to have a verbal sparring match with someone who thinks an 'order' is something that is an optional decision left up to the person it's issued to."

Reno glanced at Rude a second time, who had up until then been watching the exchange with a slight kink to the corner of his mouth. Neither men said anything, but Elena found that sometimes words weren't necessary. If that look had words it would embody 'I'm sure as fuck glad it's you and not me, buddy'. She found her face reddening slightly despite herself. No matter how much she shot those two down they still bit back. Her eyes darted over to Yuffie, who looked like she was torn between snorting in laughter and glaring at Reno, her apparent delight with a certain Turk's verbal scalding likely having been the only reason her mouth was still shut. The corner of Elena's lip twitched, a new topic found, and she clapped her hands together to get everyone's attention. "So!" she said once again in that falsetto ring, Reno especially fixing her with a curious glance, "how about giving those chips back to Yuffie?"

Reno smirked, recognizing the topic changing ploy that was as transparent as slum cheese. "What, these old things?"

"What do you think?"

Reno brought the packet out from under his arm and seemed to consider it thoughtfully for a couple of seconds. "Seems an awful waste to dish them out to someone who'll just throw them up again in five minutes, doesn't it, 'Laney?"

_Oh, sweet shit, here we go…_

"_Are you suggesting I'm bulimic, asshole!"_

Elena grimaced and held out an arm to stop Yuffie from sprinting forward and decapitating Reno on the spot. As much as she would have loved to see Reno squirm, however, she could see some people already opening their curtains to take a peek – that was the last thing they needed. "Too much to ask that we take this off the street, isn't it? If we could just move so the blood spills on Reno's part of the driveway..."

But Reno was grinning infectiously. "So I'll buy you a waterblaster for your birthday."

"_Reno_. Move. Now." Ear grabs are quite effective on young children – and while Reno could likely withstand happy amounts of asskickings and did in fact relate to a child in everything but build, the grip she had on the stud in his upper ear was like a vice. Reno bent like a cripple to allow for the pull but she tugged further, making sure he stayed that way.

"_Shit!_ For fucksake, 'Laney, that's for my fucking acupuncture not a fucking leash, _fffuuuuuuck…!"_

"I'll show you acupuncture, mister." She tugged him so her lips were near his ear, her dark eyes warning, if amused. "Be nice to the ninja with the sharp things, because I'm not about to stop her a second time." She shoved him back – releasing the earring before it tore – by a palm to the chest.

Reno scoffed. "Nice?"

"Do you want a dictionary?" Yuffie retorted, looping one arm around her middle and holding her elbow.

Reno, ever the wolf in sheep's clothing, grinned. And if it weren't for the situation where, suddenly, all knew they better take a step back lest they be sucked into something horribly skewed, Elena would have paid a little more attention to the small sound Yuffie let out beside her. Not to mention the fact Reno's current expression was a mockery of something sickening sweet – alter the image and stuff a raw lambchop into the scene and he'd always look more suited to chewing on that than he would licking a lollipop - but for the moment…

"Nice?" he repeated. "Y'want me to be nice?"

"I believe that's what I said."

A low chuckle. "… All right."

-- Elena tilted her head to the side, waiting; Rude lifted his chin, and Yuffie narrowed her eyes in mistrust. For a very valid reason. Even the best deeds done with good intentions are never entirely selfless, and Reno was far from selfless; Karma was beside the point.

Reno looked at Yuffie for a long, tense moment, then back to the chips. Yuffie, chips, Yuffie, chips, Yuffiechips. Chewing on poor little sheep just to make them squeal. Just as Yuffie looked like she was about to remark his face broke out into a maddeningly crooked grin. All looked down at the packet of chips he was holding out to the girl, the lip of the torn newspaper tilted toward her but the packet still definitely in his possession; not offering her the packet back – hell no – but offering her _some_ of the contents inside. Elena could have sworn she saw the streetlight glint evilly off Reno's imaginary pointed canine as the grin became even more warped. "Well, brat? Ya want one? They're pretty fucking tasty and I'm not about to hold them out all night. They'll go off..."

Elena shook her head and began her walk back to the house. Some things never changed, and Reno was one of them. And judging by the way a certain ninja was looking at him right now, it was going to lead to a rather 'untimely' demise.

Kudos to her. Comic, perhaps, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Hell, she doubted she'd even make Yuffie clean the driveway. Anyone who wore Reno's blood after an incident like that deserved the trophy.

* * *

Yuffie stared at the packet of chips Reno was waving in front of her face incredulously, shooting a brief glance at Elena's receding form. "You're offering me some of my _own_ chips?" she asked slowly.

Reno's mako eyes glinted wickedly.

"You're offering me. My own. Chips. To _try._" Each word was spat in a tense attempt at a controlled breath.

"Well if you really don't want some…?"

Yuffie darted forward and snatched the packet out of Reno's hands just as he made to pull them away, realizing that with how easily she'd been able to obtain them that he'd been intending on giving the packet back to her all along. She stepped back with a smart-assed expression anyway, and just for added effect poked out her tongue. Oh _Leviathan_ how she loved doing that…

"Mature."

"Coming from someone who just did the equivalent of stealing a kid's lunch from them in the playground, I'd say it was on par," she replied glibly, pulling out a chip and chewing on it with an air of satisfaction. Said air of haughtiness, however, dissolved mid-chew when she stumbled upon a rather disturbing reality. "They're nearly _cold,_" she hissed out, screwing up her face. "Gross!"

Reno's amusement was clearly visible despite the near darkness, he half expected her to begin scraping off her tongue. "Why d'you think I gave them back to you? No use to me when they're like that, brat."

Yuffie cradled the offended package of chips in her arms defensively, jutting her chin out in stubborn annoyance. "Because I thought perhaps you were going to stop being an _ass_ for once."

"Che, nice."

"It is, isn't it? _Ass._"

"Brat."

"Turkey."

"Bimbo."

"Clown."

"Bit—"

"_Oh-_kay, that's enough of _that_, I think!" came a distinctly frustrated voice from the doorway

Yuffie turned to Elena, realizing with a slight flush of embarrassment that she'd tuned the other two people out completely. She bit her lip, and when she couldn't find anything to say, she shoved her hand into her chip packet and pulled out a handful, stuffing them into her mouth and at the same time chewing her way agonizingly past the knowledge that she was essentially now eating nothing more than cold potato and oil.

Reno, apparently, wasn't so easily silenced.

"Enough of what, Rookie? I'm just trying to get the punk to stop catching flies with her mouth."

"You know very well what I'm telling you to shut up for, Reno."

Yuffie could have cheered at Elena like a little girl if she wasn't practically sputtering saliva-ridden potato from between her lips at her latest 'name'.

"Ahh, of course I do. Good thing you're fairly easy to tune out." Reno's eyes fell on her again, and her 'gaping' mouth. Rough fingers reached out and snapped her jaw closed efficiently, flicking her annoyingly on the lips before pulling away. If Yuffie's face wasn't already burning with anger…

"Our driveway doesn't need fertilizer, brat."

Yuffie's mouth virtually stayed closed as she growled incredulously, "_Kid!_" Having finally broken the legal barrier to 'adult' just over a year back, there was no bigger insult. Especially given she didn't have anything like Tifa's shapely build to back it up.

"Speaking of," Elena intercepted with an eye twitch, trying to salvage some form of piece. "Isn't it well past your bedtime, Reno? You've got to get up early to take the morning shift with Reeve, remember? You're inspecting the ship for the party. You know it has to be ready in two days, and Reeve'll be pissed if you're late – the man runs a ridiculously tight schedule."

Reno's reply was a garbled static murmur of something along the lines of, "what the hell are you, my damned mother?", but for the life of her Yuffie couldn't seem to move passed four very important words.

_Ship._

_Party._

… _Two days._

Yuffie paled. She only knew of one party taking place in two days that Reeve would be attending, and it was with a sinking feeling she knew it would be the very same one she'd been invited to. But – her hand began rifling through her pocket for the invite - surely it wasn't on a ship, was it? The invitation hadn't said anything along the lines of that… had it? Or had she been so caught up in the knowledge that she was attending an _official_, _formal_ function that she had skipped one of the most important details? Like the location.

"Probably."

Yuffie looked up. Reno was grinning like the cat that had got the cream.

_Did I say that out loud?_

"Yes." Reno fixed her with a dry look. "You're going, aren't you?"

"Yes," she groaned. She dragged a hand down her face. _Ship…_

"To the anniversary?" Elena cut in, unable to hear fully well from the doorway.

She nodded. Yuffie's mouth, meet venus flytrap. Great friends.

"Makes sense," Rude said as a silence fell, Reno basking in the glory of Yuffie's fumbled realization, and Rude and Elena quite happy to sit back and watch for once.

It wasn't so much uncomfortable for them as it was for her. She was suddenly aware of their differences in 'status', or, more accurately, the sides they had previously taken, with the three of them watching her like – she couldn't help comparing it to - prey. She scuffed her toe against the loose shingle under her feet for a second, pursing her lips as the hush stretched out over several longer moments. What _would_ certain other members of Avalanche think if they found out she'd been hanging around with a bunch of Turks on _their_ property after midnight? Or that she'd been with Reno on 'missions' on various occasions? With her luck if they attended the same function she'd be found out and without explanation like a deer in the headlights. How did you tell a good friend you skipped a birthday party and went frolicking around with a mass murderer and his cronies?

Reno's distinct voice snapped her out of her thoughts before they could drift too far.

"You didn't know it was going to be on a ship, did you?" he asked, smirk deepening. "You have that charmingly nauseous look on your face you got when I was driving us in that truck."

"What do _you_ think?"

Reno laughed. Elena coughed lightly, and Yuffie caught her eyes.

"You're the one that gets sea-sick, aren't you?"

Ignoring Reno's expression of, "she gets everything-bloody-sick, you blonde idiot", Yuffie nodded; it wasn't exactly a secret. Hell, on the short-list of facts that'd been published about her as one of the featured members of Avalanche in a magazine one month, it had, unfortunately, been the number one 'Hot Fact'. Her kleptomania came a very close second. "_Very_ sea-sick." It wasn't like there was a single soul in the world that didn't have some clue…

Elena screwed up her face. "I get a bit like that sometimes. On an empty stomach."

Yuffie rolled her eyes. "If I eat, I end up saying hello to my food again, y'know…"

Elena again chose to ignore Reno's weight comments and stuck to her guns, seeing another perfect opportunity full of potential on the horizon. "Well, I have some pills if you need some."

Yuffie blinked, surprised – not at the pills, but at the offer. "… Yeah?" Elena had always seemed nice to her, but the way she was being tonight was totally unexpected. Well, perhaps not unexpected. Perhaps it was just the way her perceptions about all of these people had done a total one-eighty since this time four months ago. On any other occasion she wouldn't have been caught dead talking to Elena – much less Reno. But… it didn't seem to matter anymore. They were on the same side now, after all, weren't they?

"Sure," Elena said. "Just come see me sometime before the party, I'm not sure where I put them. Ah, no, wait, I might be busy – come in and I'll find them for you now."

_Come. In._ _To their house?_

"No, scale the walls and perch on our chimney while we talk to you out the windows, brat. Fuck, you need some sleep…"

_Argh, damn it…_

* * *

Turks. Who could figure them?

That was distinctly what Yuffie was thinking as she found herself seated on the comfortable double-seater in Rude and Elena's lounge, suddenly faced with the idea of 'normal' conversation, and two very abnormal people. Well, okay, one semi-normal cueball, and one smirking little twit with a cancer complex – yet _another_ cigarette was draping out of his mouth like a poorly attached false tooth. She'd glue one to his face someday, teach the punk a lesson like she'd done with Cid...

A sudden loud crash resonated through the small house and into the lounge, and for the quadrillionth time Yuffie found herself straightening and whirling around as that same sound made her ears ring. Whoever their neighbors were, she realized, she felt inimitably sorry for them. So far she'd had the presence of mind to keep her mouth shut about what in the hell Elena could possibly be doing in the kitchen that would require her making sounds far louder than any cheap coffee grinder, but this time she found her curiosity heightened to an all new level. She was her father's daughter, after all.

Yuffie turned back to face the two on the chairs opposite her, feeling marginally like she was sitting in front of an interrogation squad. Then again, with the way the furniture was set up and the pile of rope strewn under the table, that was probably entirely intentional. "Uh… what's she--"

"Coffee," Reno snorted with a faint grin, a break from his seemingly sole task of snickering at her discomfort. "Doubt she'll find any, though. I couldn't."

Yuffie screwed up her face. "She sounds like she's destroying the kitchen."

"She probably is."

Was she the only one that was finding this remotely unusual? "_Why?_"

"It's coffee." Rude answered, glancing briefly at his partner with an expression that could be loosely termed 'amusement', but was, as usual, bordering close to his typical 'reserved' face. "She hides it from him. Unfortunately she's running out of original places to put it."

And _that_, she decided, was about the only answer she was going to get without prying teeth or punching the lights out of Reno, whose snickering had returned with the closure of his mouth. She rolled her eyes. "Your face'll get stuck like that one day, Turk."

"It already is. Holy forbid it cracking if he ever tries to smile."

Yuffie looked up at Elena, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, three mugs in one hand, one in the other, hair in complete and utter disarray.

"Coffee?"

"Err… " Yuffie glanced at her watch, the after midnight time only adding to the other oddities of the evening. "Yeah, sure," she said, knowing she wasn't remotely sleepy anymore and coffee wasn't going to do anyone any major damage. "Why not."

Elena smiled, and turned back into the kitchen.

Reno raised an eyebrow. "You drink coffee." A question disguised as a deadpan statement.

She raised an eyebrow back in mild challenge. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno… you might start bouncing off walls? Stab somebody with that oversized Christmas decoration of yours?"

Yuffie twitched. "_Christmas_ decoration?"

"That _is_ what it is, isn't it?"

She stuck her jaw out stubbornly. Two could play at this. "Well at least _I_ don't go around prodding people with something that resembles a gnarled old severed walking cane."

"An _electrical_ walking cane, shorty. That _zaps_ people. And if you stuck _mine _on top of a Christmas tree it wouldn't look like it fucking well belonged there."

"You sound entirely too happy about those first facts…"

Reno winked. "Gotta be happy about something."

"Yeah, well yo-"

"Ahem." Word form this time, like the antics were barely tolerated. And from the silent alpha male, too. Yuffie started slightly at the low rumble that was Rude clearing his throat, and watched as the large man got to his feet, totally dwarfing the furniture and all the other knickknacks and gimmicks that were so obviously Elena's. Or at least she _hoped_ they were Elena's, or she was going to have to start questioning the baldy's sexual orientation.

Rude gestured to the kitchen as he addressed them, "I'll leave you two to argue; Elena will probably want a hand with carrying the coffee out."

Yuffie winced as Rude departed. "Uh…"

"Eh, that nearly filled his word quota for the day, anyway," Reno said with a slight yawn, spinning around in the chair so he was sitting sideways, his feet dangling over the edge of the one Rude had previously been inhabiting, arms behind his head as he regarded her with a sidelong glance. "Don't worry 'bout it." The faintly glowing eyes turned to a different target. "Chip?"

Yuffie looked down at the packet she was still cradling possessively in her arms, and scowled, reminded of the fact that, hey, "They're cold, idiot."

"Food's food."

"You still want 'em?"

"Said so, didn't I?"

She shrugged; they were cold and she could no longer be bothered acting like she was still hungry; although only half of the packet was gone, and she had only contributed to a small amount of its demise, the idea of forcing cold vegetable down her throat was not quite so appealing as it was watching Reno devour them with apparent zest. Personally, she rated cold chips right down there with pond scum, and given how often Avalanche ended up traversing lakes and rivers, it wasn't like she didn't have any experience in digesting the latter. Folding the packet so that the top was concealed lest she spill some on Elena's furniture she tossed the roll of chips across the room with a bored, "Catch." Hard, of course

Reno didn't so much as even blink as he, yet again, swiped the object out of the air with effortless ease, unfolded the packet, rested it on his chest just by his chin, and began eating.

Yuffie resisted the urge to groan. Not even an oomph. Apparently, Reno had had a lot of things thrown at him over the years…

* * *

Weird. Strange. Out of the ordinary. _Abnormal._ Ack, wait, that last word didn't quite fit. Unless of course she could somehow justify 'abnormal' as being way too normal for people like _them_. Yuffie rubbed a hand against her forehead and eyed the two small items in her hand. The pills she'd expected, but Elena actually handing her a small business card with her PHS number?

… Just as abnormal as the invitation to go dress shopping. Her eye twitched. She didn't even know _how_ that'd slipped into the conversation – Elena had probably brought it up – but either way… what could she have said? No? She didn't know anything about any of the shops in Midgar, hated shopping in general, cursed most preppy people she knew, and didn't give a damn about her own fashion sense – her hands picked at her mismatching shorts - obviously. Her main hope for helping her find a dress was out on some mushy detour with Cloud, and so that left her with little choice when it all came down to it.

Elena of the Turks – an evil shopping guru from "greater depths of hell than I could even fathom", according to Reno. Go figure.

Gawd, why was she justifying herself to herself, anyway? She snorted and shook her head, ducking around the curb and into her seedy little motel. _Practice,_ she thought wryly, remembering that she'd undoubtedly soon have to tell Tifa where she'd really been during her birthday gathering before she found out by herself.

Flipping out the keycard, Yuffie made her way into her room, not bothering to switch the lights on because, wait, she'd forgotten to turn them off in the first place. Groaning in embarrassment in remembrance of her earlier stuff-up, she flopped down on her bed backwards, spreading her arms out alongside her, taking up the whole bed. She let the more obvious thoughts come to her now that the coffee had settled in and her brain was working at a million miles an hour, and she didn't have to bother to guard her expression against some arrogant little turd. Said 'turd', really, being said object of said obvious thoughts, of course.

Reno'd seemed a lot more relaxed tonight, and even though that had meant more frustration for _her_ out of his total mockery, she knew she didn't mind it so much as she'd let on. Hell, that was almost – _almost –_ the only thing that irritated her. It surprised her somewhat the way she'd reacted to the banter, and how distracted she got with it that she'd had to be interrupted by Rude and Elena several times in case their house (or sanity) was endangered. But then, what kind of basis did she have to judge their rather unorthodox acquaintance on, anyway? Every time she'd seen him in the past they'd been either trying to kill each other, fighting something else that was trying to kill _them_, fleeing for their lives, or torturing each other with whip-sharp retorts.

What surprised her the most, perhaps, was the realization that even though they were no longer depending on each other for their lives or relative safety, he was still bothering with her. That was the kicker. But—wait. She rolled her eyes at this last thought. Okay, so she'd stumbled upon their comfy little abode and had run into him by complete accident on the street, serving as a few moments of cheap amusement; he still could have stayed in those shadows and ignored her. Hell, he hadn't even argued like she'd expected when Elena had invited her inside – just made a snarky little comment about her thinking out loud and headed in the door after her. He'd even given her chips back - _cold_, but he'd returned them without lacing them with some ridiculous 'assassin' poison, or throwing them into a puddle.

Yuffie screwed up her face, looking out passed the moth-infested roof to the murky sky outside. Something up there sure had a twisted sense of humor. What was she going to tell Tifa and everyone, anyway? It wasn't really her fault – not the first time. But running into Reno in the alley and then not leaving when he'd asked? Typical of her to ignore someone's orders but entirely stupid of her to have even hung around, and not exactly a good thing to help her plead her case... whatever that was. Despite the fact that she'd saved his life in the end – even if he wasn't untowardly grateful – she still doubted any of her co-Avalanche buddies would be very pleased. She chose to ignore the thought that she'd found the moments fighting in the alley more enjoyable than any possible party. Not to mention that the Turks – most of them – weren't the heartless bastards she'd always thought them to be.

Actually, she noted with a huff, there were quite a few things she was going to have to omit. Like specific details of Reno's past, perhaps the entire drug incident, and any references to Reno's apparent humanity in general. Yuffie chuckled quietly at this, even though she wasn't overly amused – some of this was going to make for serious plot holes.

The fact that she'd told her father that Tifa had paid for the driving lessons, and that Tifa had no idea why she was even here early was one such example. She tapped her finger against her forehead, lips pursed, trying to think of some way to explain away all this madness without appearing like a total lunatic…

But found herself instead thinking only of what was to happen tomorrow. Dress shopping with Elena at ten, driving lessons with an instructor at two. Leviathan, she wasn't sure what made her more twitchy - four hours with a Turk she barely knew, or an hour in control of a moving vehicle that Reno had helped pay for _even after_ she'd crashed the last one and dislocated his shoulder in doing so. A thought half presented itself telling her she should probably check the break lines – whatever they were – before she got in control of the car.

With a yawn she yanked out the blanket from under her, resorting to breathing out of her mouth from the sheer musty smell, and crawling under it with a small sigh. She let her eyes slip closed. The next few days were certainly going to be interesting…

* * *

"I think… no, not blue. Doesn't go with your eyes. Perhaps green? No, wait…" Elena pursed her lips and turned to the sales clerk with an inquisitive look. "What do you have that's simple? And red."

_Red?_ Yuffie lifted a finger in an 'I really don't think that's a good idea' gesture, and followed it up with an articulate. "Uh…"

Elena, already holding several hangers with various dresses draped over her arm, turned to her with a bright smile, shaking her head. "Trust me."

Funny how those words were just as reassuring coming out of this Turk's mouth. Yuffie sighed, wincing as the shopkeeper, an otherwise nice lady in her mid thirties, smiled and pulled out a long red dress from off the rack, holding it by the hem so its lacy frills fanned out for a more obvious display. Wincing, she leaned in Elena's direction, one eye slightly narrowed. "Red's bright… and that thing looks like someone attacked it with tape and wrapping paper."

Elena nodded. "But you'll suit it, yeah?"

She didn't know whether to feel insulted or what.

"You'll look gorgeous, honey. These tailored, tuck-hemmed frills are the latest trend."

Yuffie squared her jaw, sucked in a breath, and opened her mouth to rebut what the attendant just said. "Loo—"

"Just try it, Yuffie. You don't have to like them, but just _try_ them and that way we'll know where to start, okay?"

Yuffie closed her eyes, counted to ten. Then took the dress and the several others offered to her, before eyeing them somewhat dubiously. She couldn't argue with Elena's logic, after all; the woman had been kind enough to invite her dress shopping with her, but she just didn't necessarily agree with… well, how bold the blonde was when it came to shopping. This was the fourth store they'd been in this morning, and every single counter clerk seemed to know Elena by name. It got Yuffie curious (and more than a little nervous) – what cause for dress shopping would a Turk have, anyway? She hated to admit it, but maybe Reno was – to her eternal horror – right.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Elena leaned in close, grabbed her by the shoulder, and steered her in the direction of the fitting rooms, her own pile of dresses in hand. She found herself trundling into the nearest cubicle, the dresses hung up on the lone hook in the room with her, and the curtain closed for her before she could even blink. Damn, that woman was getting good at restricting her potential patties to dark, confined spaces.

"Pity there's no padded walls, y'know…" she retorted to the gesture.

"Come on, don't look so traumatized, it'll be fun!" came Elena's voice from the stall next to her as something was draped over the top of the adjoining wall – several wraps of varying colours and textures. "We can try these with them, too, then move onto other things after that!"

Other… things? This was a new little twist. It was like the blonde was trying to ease her into it.

… Ugh, but it was _still_ disturbing how excited Elena was. If an evil cackle filtered out of the stall next to her any time soon, followed by a gnarled crow of 'excellent', she would not be the least surprised. She turned to the pile of dresses - wondering why anyone could get so excited over potentially tripping over their own feet all night and forsaking all ability to breathe - and blinked at them. "Where the hell do I start?" she muttered under her breath, reaching a hand out somewhat hesitantly to hover over the nearly overflowing stack, that same overwhelming feeling from the passed three stores making her jittery.

As if mocking her, the first hanger and its respective dress slipped off the brimming hook, and plopped to the ground. Red.

Yuffie picked it up with a defeated sigh and held it out in front of her before the mirror, tugging thoughtfully at a strand of hair.

"_Try_ it, Yuffie," came the warning filter of Elena's voice from the next stall.

Yuffie felt her eye twitch. How the hell did she _do_ that…?

* * *

"Come on out."

"… No?"

"Yuffie."

"Fine." Blowing a stray bang out of her face that her bandanna failed to hold back, Yuffie pushed aside the curtain and started blankly at Elena… who immediately cracked up laughing.

"You've got the zip stuck, huh?" the blonde said in between chortles of laughter, scratching at her temple with amused brown eyes, standing just outside the her changing room in a gown of her own. "Come'ere."

She allowed Elena to spin her around and jostle the zip a little, free it, and then tug it upward. Feeling it snap into place, Yuffie turned back around, hands going immediately to the seams just under her arms to twist the thing back into place, looking at herself in the mirror. She felt ridiculous, and more importantly, she _looked_ ridiculous. Muttering a few obscene words under her breath, she raised an eyebrow at Elena as if to challenge her. "I can't wear this," she said bluntly.

"You're right, you can't."

"I… no?" Yuffie let a relieved smile wash across her face, cocking her head to the side, watching her reflection do the same. "I look like a gimp. A small, twiggy gimp strangled in red cloth."

Elena snickered, shaking her head as she crouched to adjust the lines on the hem of said gimpy dress. At least the girl wasn't physically tearing this one off as if it burned; the same couldn't be said for the first few gowns. "It's not that. It's that you'd be doing _that_ all night." She pointed.

Yuffie looked down mid-movement, and found that she was again tugging the bodice up nervously. Snapping her hands away, she rolled her eyes and gestured to her torso. "It's because it's strapless. I don't have anything big enough to hold it up!"

Elena laughed again. "No, that's a load of crap. _That_ one just isn't cut right for you, and you're not used to wearing something without straps. The bones in the dress are also too baggy for your ribcage."

"_Bones_?" This was far more detailed than any explanation she got from Tifa. When the brunette fist fighter dragged her off to the shops, it was her being shoved into the stall with dresses on pain of materia repossession…

Elena tugged at a series of what appeared to be small, bumpy seams running vertically up the top segment of her dress. "These. They keep the dress in shape."

"Oh… So, if I cut them out it'd—"

"Scoot! Next one!"

Shoved into the stall again, Yuffie sighed and resolved herself to her fate.

* * *

Perhaps doom wasn't quite the right word.

"You like it, don't you?"

"I wouldn't go _that_ far…"

"You're smiling."

Yuffie bit her lower lip to conceal her expression. "I'm not smiling, I'm just--"

"You like it."

"I don't _love_ it, but…"

"But it's better than the others."

"… Yeah."

"Excellent!"

Yuffie raised an eyebrow as Elena slung an arm around her shoulder as casually as one could while their breasts were threatening to pop out of a strapless bodice, and leaned her head on her own shoulder, glancing with what could only be called a _sated_ little grin at their reflections. Yuffie followed her gaze to the full-length mirror, eyes settling dubiously on her own figure. The gown in question, simple in retrospect compared to the others, was elegant, but definitely not plain. It was red – Elena had been ridiculously obsessed with fitting her in that colour, but in the end, after trying a few alternate ones, she had to agree that the green dresses she'd favoured because of their colour weren't exactly flattering in style – and wasn't anything flamboyantly fluffy or frilly… it was just… cut nicely. Yuffie ran a hand over her hip, pleased at the 'line' of the dress, as the blonde had called it. It didn't bunch, it didn't pull, it _flowed_ smoothly from its single strap on her right shoulder all the way to the point it tapered to just above her left ankle. In fact, the more she looked, the more she liked the single strap, the angular, deliberately skewed cut of the hem, even the damn material. Crooked and quirky, but not over the top – brilliant. And more importantly, it didn't feel heavy, or like it was going to fall the hell down if she decided she needed to lift her arms from where they were clamped against her side.

She shifted her weight, twisting her body slightly as Elena stepped away, swishing the lower part of the dress. She bit her lip, eyeing a detail at the side uncertainly. "I'm still not sure about this, y'know?"

Elena just shook her head, used to this same argument by now. "Trust me, Yuffie, that split isn't anything remotely indecent – the shorts you were wearing revealed more thigh than that. Hell, they reveal thigh _full stop_. That dress," the blonde stooped in a half crouch to tug at the modest split running up the lengthiest side of the gown, "only has a cut that ends just above your knee. What're you worried about? You're not going to be fighting in the damned thing."

… There was a point. Mind you, that was something she hadn't taken into consideration. "Well, now that—"

"Want my opinion?"

Yuffie rolled her eyes. "You've been _giving_ me your opinion all morning."

"Hey, Reno _did_ warn you, Yuffie. And besides, it's the best one by far. It suits you. Get it."

"That's not an opinion, that's an order," she shot back sarcastically.

Elena raised her hands defensively. "All right, you're as bad as Reno." Ignoring the pale glare that got her, she swept her arm toward the counter "Well?"

Looking over her reflection once more, Yuffie tugged absently at a longer strand of hair. She hated to say it, but it was… nice. She glanced back to the stall, where her clothes were bunched in a heap on the floor, then muttered, "What the hell…" There was, of course, the added bonus to buying this dress. That had to mean they were done here, right?

"Good good!" Elena snapped approvingly, grinning and brushing her hands over the bodice of her own dress, catching her eye as she was about to duck back into the stool.

Yuffie was about to close the door when Elena turned and kept it held open, a slight furrow to her brows. "Wait a sec. Need t'see something first."

Yuffie raised both eyebrows, keeping the door open with her toe as it threatened to swing shut. "What?"

"This." Elena's grin widened and she reached forward, her hand darting out and snagging one free-flying end of her bandanna, pulling it clean off before Yuffie could let out so much as a squeak in reply. Her hands flew to her head, bangs of brunette hair falling instantly into her face and leaving only one eye unobstructed. She let out a muttered curse and raked the offending strands back, holding her hand on her head and scowling faintly at Elena.

"What was that for!"

The green-grey bandanna was held up and dangled in front of her. "Don't you ever not wear this?"

Yuffie shrugged. "When I don't sleep – it keeps my hair out of my face."

Elena smirked faintly. "I noticed." She reached out again with her other hand, picking at a strand of chin-length hair. Yuffie flinched. "Why don't you just use clips and things?"

"Ugh… clips are sharp when you're fighting. Ever been hit on the head by something _blunt_ but it _hurts_ because the clip on your head is metal and sharp and stuff?"

The blonde's look was doubtful. "… No. No, I can't say I have. And I can't believe you take that into consideration when you buy hair products."

Yuffie lifted her chin indignantly and took the chance to yank the bandanna back. "Well there ya go. And besides," she added, affecting a look of disgust, "half of them are way too damn girly."

Elena laughed at this, not commenting on the girly issue – for now. She suspected – more than – that this was the real reason. "Oh, come on. Who in this day is going to bash you over the head?"

She shot a blunt look at the blonde at this moment. "Aside from the fact that there's several people I'm close to and they can barely restrain themselves, y'know, even you should know better than to ask that. What about your happy little pet pit-bull, for one?"

"Reno?" A light laugh. "Oh man… if he could just get his hands on some—" Elena let the glare from Yuffie interrupt her. Any talk about Reno brought some form of hostility. Fake hostility, if she could be so bold. "Oh, Yuff. Seriously…? Reno's not going to kill you. Sure, he's a little rough around the edges, but," Elena flicked Yuffie in the forehead, "he's not all made of mako."

Yuffie couldn't believe she was having this discussion. "No, he's part poison, as well."

There was a raised eyebrow in reply and a small smile on Elena's face as she shook her head. "Yeah, yeah." She let go of the door to Yuffie's stall. "Just promise me," she lifted a finger and pointed at the bandanna she was just now retying around her forehead, seemingly jumping subjects left and right, "you're not going to wear that to the function."

Yuffie snorted. "How else am I going to keep my brains in?"

"_Yuffie,_ you can't wear a-"

"I know!" She closed the door to the stall and began the tedious process that was undoing the zip on the gown. "Kidding, Elena, _kidding._" Or not.

"Excellent!" There was the sound of the changing room door next to her closing, and then another zipper, the next words sounding a lot more delighted than they had any right to be. "Now we just need our shoes and accessories."

Oh, for… "Joy."

* * *

She had had, in the past, _no _idea that shopping could be such a rigorous exercise, or so complicated. Yuffie had called Elena _obsessed_, Elena had called Yuffie _naïve_, and the ninja had countered back with _blissfully ignorant_. It's no surprise really; everyone knows that Yuffie Kisaragi, when on home turf, has no need to go shopping for herself. However, this is far from 'home turf', and if anything, the several large shopping bags billowing out from her sides were a testament to this. But if she thought she'd be getting away with skiving out of anything short of being stuffed into a piece of material that may as well have been sewn onto her body it was that damn tight, then she was sorely mistaken.

In the two hours that had followed the choosing of 'The Dress' (as Elena so termed it), they had visited countless more stores. Shoes were bought – flimsy little things that looked like the straps couldn't hold a deflated balloon let alone a foot – and a chiffon scarf that was… pointless and transparent. Decoration. Unnecessary. The only use it'd probably serve her aside from flapping uselessly at her side would be to wipe away any traces of excess seasickness from her mouth.

… Okay, so maybe the day hadn't been that bad. She'd had plenty of fun, spent enough of her dad's allowance to make him wish he hadn't sent her to that damn party, and… learnt a few things about the Turks thanks to Elena's excitable mouth. She hadn't been quite so forward about herself, but she'd been more than happy to give an opinion. Of course that wouldn't change now.

"What d'you mean it's nearly two!" she demanded, snatching up Elena's wrist and juggling a hamburger and her shopping bags in the other hand. True enough, the minute hand on the delicate watch was fast grazing the eleven on the dial. Yuffie felt her face go white. "Y'know, when I said 'keep an eye on the time' I didn't mean 'tell me five minutes before I have t'be there'!"

"I thought you said you had a ride waiting?"

"No, I said I'd need to catch a ride."

"… Oh." A tense giggle. "I got distracted?"

"Nice one." The shopping bags at Elena's ankles were on her side. They'd had to make a trip back to the woman's car just so they could retain the ability to walk under even more shopping bags. The woman was an addict. "You need help," she said dryly as she looped her arm through the handles of her own packages and prepared to make a hasty getaway.

"So they say," Elena grinned. "But the only help I need is a little plastic square attached to my hip, thanks."

Yuffie found it was her turn to shake her head. "Ugh, you're just…" Another glance at her own watch, now. "Jeez, I gotta go."

"You don't want a ride?"

"You think we'll even get through the traffic?"

"Point."

"Shit… shitshit…. _Shit!_" Shoving the remainder of the hamburger into Elena's already teeming arms, she began the sprint to the train station. "I'm screwed…!"

With a last look at the girl's receding form, Elena had to agree with her sentiments. Of course, as she looked down at the ridiculous amount of garments bundled to her chest, she realized Yuffie wasn't the only one. She pursed her lips, grimacing. "I wonder if Rudy'd notice if I pawned some of his collectibles…"

* * *

Yuffie didn't even have time to pay attention to the butterflies in her stomach. If she'd been as fat as that disgusting receptionist in her motel she really would have been screwed. But she was fast. Mind you, that didn't matter when you were lost. "Screeeeewed," she muttered to herself, singsong, as she turned on her heel. If Reeve hadn't rebuilt Midgar she'd have at least known half of the new streets. She knew she was meant to be south of where Elena and herself had been shopping, but that still hadn't granted her any grace at all. The direction she'd been traveling due to the build of the blocks had been southwest.

She'd been walking fifteen minutes and had been about ready to give up when the sound of an obnoxious horn burst across the scene.

_Please don't be anyone I know, please don't be anyone I know, please don't—_

"Yuffie!"

_Ass._

A car pulled up beside her and she turned slowly on her heel to find herself face to face with none other than the takeaway man from the previous night. Her eyebrows shot up – but at least she'd been guaranteed it wasn't Reno. Hell, even the namecalling had ensured that; since when would Reno call her by her actual name?

"Eric?" she asked, stooping to see into the window of the tiny little make of vehicle she'd come to associate with old people.

"That's the one. Sorry I'm late – although, with the way you're looking I'd be guessin' you're no better."

"… I'm sorry?"

"That's okay, it happens, Yuffie."

She blinked. Shook her head. "No, no… I mean, what the hell're you late for? I have drivin' lessons now, not an appointment at the local fish shop, man."

"You got that voucher on you, kid?"

_Oooooohhhh…_ Yuffie swallowed back an old man retort and dug through her pockets. She fished it out and waved it at Eric, neglecting to bother asking how he knew she had a voucher. "You know where this place is?"

"Even better." Eric began flipped open the glovebox, snatched something up, and held it out of the window to Yuffie. Two somethings, actually; a business card with a familiar comical car printed on it, and a set of glaring yellow learner plates.

"Y'mean—"

"And Yuffie?"

She looked up; Eric was grinning now.

"The door on this car opens outward, just so you know."

* * *

Reno detested early mornings like nothing else. Early afternoon was just as bad. In fact, any time of day that involved the sun passing low and bright in the sky and glaring through the windshield of a vehicle he was driving deserved to be smothered with smog. The cigarette he intended on smoking would at least grant him some respite – or so he hoped - because the tint to the presidential car's windscreen and the fold-down flip-screen were sure were sure as fuck doing him no good. Early mornings after late nights just shouldn't exist.

Reeve spared Reno a brief look of annoyance as the sound of a lighter's flint came from his left. "Reno. No smoking in here."

"Says who?"

"How about, 'The president?'"

Reno chuckled dryly. "Reeve, man, when you learn to grow some balls and drive your own fucking car around, you can tell me what to do, all right?"

"I could have you arrested for being in contempt of regulations, you know."

Reno took a long drag on the cigarette and blew it out the window.

Reeve sighed. "Tell me why I hired you again?"

"I'm indispensable to keeping your feet on the ground, that's why."

"I highly doubt that's got anything to do with it, Reno."

"So do I." He palmed the car around a corner smoothly, pulling them to a stop at the wharf. He surveyed the truckloads of things being unloaded onto the large ocean liner and felt his smirk falter. "Christ…"

"Christ has nothing to do with it, I assure you. We're splashing out a little for this one."

Reno switched off the car and stepped out, draping himself over the open door, smoking cigarette dangling limply from between his fingers. "No shit. Don't tell me those're tea cozies I see, boss."

"Ha ha." The president adjusted his suit and stepped out, thrusting a checklist folder into Reno's arms as he strode forward to greet the caterers standing on the wharf, several other security guards tailing him. "Look alive, Reno. We've got a lot of work to do."

"We? You'll be stuffing your face on fucking sample pastries all morning."

"_Reno_."

He groaned. "How was it I could get held in contempt again…?"

* * *

"This is a fucking woman's job."

"You're being paid for it, Reno, I'd imagine it'd be a good idea to close your mouth and get on with it. You'll get it done faster."

"Couldn't you have rostered Elena on today?"

"I could have."

"Are you _trying_ to make me suffer?"

"It really isn't a matter of trying, anymore. Did you even sleep last night, Reno?"

Reno muttered a dark comment back that even he wasn't sure what it clearly said. Aside from 'no'. Sleep had been squashed into the few of hours before dawn, a late night unexpected conversation and remnants of caffeine running through his bloodstream preventing anything even resembling slumber.

"Well then, I suggest you quit hitting the bars the night before work and start catching some shut-eye."

Reno didn't even bother to comment. He resumed flipping through the box of serviettes. This really was ridiculous. "You could've hired some kids off the street to do this for you, boss."

"Call me paranoid but I'd rather my bodyguards sort through the equipment coming onto this boat with me."

"Feel so special…" Reno yawned, shoving another box down the conveyor belt. "But there's other fucking ways to get shit onto a ship aside from hiding things in boxes."

"And that's why you're scheduled to check things over later on this afternoon."

"Check things a little more relevant than the serviette boxes?"

Reeve shot Reno a tired look. "Are you going to keep questioning me?"

"As long as I'm just flipping through these things, can I get some goddamned food?"

"Reno, the safety of our passengers and crew is vital to the success of this function. You're not taking this seriously."

"Fuck. I don't take anything seriously, Reeve, let alone… these." He grabbed a handful of pristine white paper squares and flapped them in Reeve's face. "I could be checking the cargo holds, the hull. Searching through the janitor's broom with a fine-toothed comb would get me further. With the logistics of these things you could just weigh or x-ray them as opposed to picking through each box. Do you _know_ how many serviettes are in here?"

"Seven hundred per box."

Reno ran a hand through his hair. "… That wasn't a serious question, Reeve."

"It never is. And you've asked me three or four times this morning. Go and take a coffee break or something, Reno, and wake yourself up. I'm not sending you home today short of firing you."

Reno patted his pocket. "Can I hand you my resignation instead?"

"You always say that, too. I've yet to see anything." Reeve's lips twitched. "Coffee, Reno, and bring me back one of those sample donuts while you're at it, will you? These hips need a little extra padding."

* * *

He'd finally found a good patch, although it'd taken him a good ten minutes of his break and several flashes of his badge to members of the crew. He settled back on the crate he'd dragged from the only quiet side of the wharf into the shade, the shadow of the large ship and the sound of the lapping water against the jetty's posts lulling him into a light doze. He imagined this would become his break spot for the next few days, and that was fine by him. The loading section to the dock was on the other side of the boat and from here the shredding of tape being torn off boxes failed to reach his ears. Yep, sitting here with a coffee and cigarette(s) was all-fucking-right to him.

About fifteen minutes passed before he even realized he wasn't alone after all. The sounds of a knife hitting thick wooden planks fell on his ears and he cracked open an eye to peer across the jetty. Down the far end of pier he could make out the form of a kid crouched over something. Hacking. A long pole lay on the ground next to him, and Reno clicked, sitting up from his lazy sprawl and leaning on his elbow. Fishing. Huh.

Reno watched the boy boredly for a few moments more. He had a couple of fish he'd gutted and the smell was beginning to waft unappetizingly his way. Every drag of the cigarette brought the rank smell of raw stomach content, and with a groan Reno dragged himself to his feet, flipping his sunglasses back down and heading on over.

"I wasn't aware Midgar's waters had fuckin' cleaned up enough to fish."

The kid jumped and spun around, the knife flying from his fingers and scattering into the sea. He stared in shock up at the Turk, and Reno raised an eyebrow; apparently he hadn't been the only one who'd thought he'd been alone.

"They look like they were pretty damn bloated, anyway," he drawled when the scruffy kid failed to comment. "Not a lot of use to ya, I bet."

The boy nodded, finally gathering his wits about him to stuff something into his bag.

Reno wrinkled his nose. "Christ, you've got a bag inside that, right? You're not just stuffing raw fish guts in there?"

"… Y-yeah." Another nod. "Um… I… what're you doin' here?"

Reno smirked. "Inspecting serviettes." There was a soft hiss as he tossed his cigarette into the bay. "You been here long?"

"… U-un. All morning."

He really hadn't been paying attention, then. Fuck knows why the kid was so nervous. Maybe he wasn't good with strangers, or wasn't aware that the maritime bans had been lifted on the area. "You naturally twitchy, or you got a stutter, kid?"

The boy's eyes widened. "I-I… I gotta leave." There was a sudden scramble to pick up all his gear, and the lost knife forgotten, the bag was slung over a bony shoulder. Reno chuckled and stepped aside as the boy bolted, then scowled as he proceeded to dart right into the ship's northernmost entrance instead of west over the small walk.

Fuck. "Oi! Stop the little shit!" he yelled as the boy slammed into the two posted guards, kicking into a sprint. The two suited men pushed off the wall and followed behind him, navigating the padding of small booted footsteps through the narrow cargo run. The kid had a headstart on them, but the peel of clattering cutlery in the distance told him it wouldn't be long.

Reno's smoker's lungs were heaving when he rounded a corner and found the kid tangled in a tablecloth, standing next to a rather stunned girl. The trolley had obviously been hers – he'd seen her earlier, hot blonde, great arse – and its contents lay strewn around the groaning little punk on the ground.

"Something wrong?"

Reno shook his head. "'Catch," he muttered, snagging the brat up by his arm. He grabbed the boy's chin and squared it with his as he stooped into a crouch. "What's your name, kid?"

"B-beagle."

Beagle? What the fuck were his parents thinking? "Where d'ya live?"

"Vanguard street."

"Number?"

"Dunno. Maybe th-three."

That was a start. "What's a smart kid like you doing running from a nice guy like me, eh?"

No answer. His eyes narrowed and he squeezed Beagle's arm a little tighter.

"Y-you've got a gun, sir."

"I do, do I."

"Yeah, i-it's in your jacket. Men like you always got guns, and M'mum says to run if'n I see one."

"So I'm a bad man with a gun?"

"… D'you want me to nod or shake m-my head here, s-sir?"

Reno found a grin on his face despite himself. He released Beagle's arm and handed him off to the other two guards, who were just now catching up. "Hold onto him a second." He wasn't stupid enough to avoid seeing the kid stiffen when he picked up his bag. The zip was open and he took a peek inside. Two fish, some loose gil, and a couple of hooks. He checked the other pockets and found nothing but lint and a small orange plastic water pistol. Great, he'd chased a practical toddler who, judging by the damp patch on his khaki shorts, looked like he'd pissed his pants.

"Scram, Beagle," he said as he held the bag out to the kid and began to walk away, rubbing at his temple. "I'll leave ya alone from now if you bring some damn deodorant next time you go fishing. You two escort him out," he added, looking over his shoulder at the two guards. "And make sure whoever's on duty tomorrow knows to let him through." He paused then, the smell reminding him, before rounding the corner and going in search of his break spot once again. "And someone fucking find him some fresh pants."

"… Yes, sir."

* * *

The blonde woman pursed her lips as she lifted the tablecloth, the folds of fabric having successfully concealed the dropped two cartridges and the small pistol dumped hastily within. A pleased twitch twisted her lips as she slipped them into the box of assorted kitchen utensils, the retreating guards none the wiser. As soon as she was sure they were gone she tugged a PHS out from her apron pocket and hit speed dial.

"_Yeah?"_

"Pull back the divers for the transfers this afternoon, we just had a close call and I think that Turk almost had us."

"_Everything all right?"_

"Peachy now the kid got a free pass into the ship. Just call the divers off, we'll bring them back in tomorrow so it's not too suspicious. We can't screw this up now."

"_Our inventory status?"_

"We're halfway there, sir. Holding it off for today won't hurt."

"_All right, I'm counting on you then. Out."_

Dial tone.

A determined nod. "Out, sir."

* * *

_Eheh… -Grins sheepishly- Hi? _

_So this update is a little after the fact. Or, likely, over a year? I won't go off into a big spiel and bore you as to why I haven't been updating, because… hey, at least I updated? XD -Ducks imaginary rotten vegetables-. But yes, updates should be a lot closer together than the one year margin now, and perhaps I should mention that I never really wanted to drop it. Sometimes the words flow, sometimes they don't, right? Anyways, a big hug, smooch, slobber and squeeing shout-out to those who've had to put up with me bitching about getting this chapter done. You guys know who you are, and I swear if I were you I would've decked me so hard... XD_

_This chapter is a tad longer than usual, both given that I didn't want to break it off without having anything significant happen, and in that I think I owe it to you guys to give you a big update as opposed to two hundred words and several different ways to say "I'm sorry"._

_Now, to reply to the reviews that I bet none of you remember leaving.. -Cackles-_

_BetweenheavenandHell: -Hands you your hat back and bows- I find the responses I tend to pull from people border on frustration and threats of homicide – apparently, some people just want me to hurry up and get these two together. But, there's no quick fix for everything, and -bashes the Reffie's heads together-, they've got nogginslike solid rock, man. XD_

_:) : I'm glad you feel my writing has improved, and that you're sticking with me. I often read back through my earlier pieces and want to gnaw my ankle off in frustration. At least I know I'm getting somewhere, even if it's at a crawl, eh? -Cheers for updatesXD-_

_Ryu Thorne: -Cackles!- Well, Donovan was never meant to be liked, oh noes. My fingers were itching throughout most of the scenes to simply type "And Reno and Yuffie pushed himinto the abyss that suddenly appeared and magically reappeared back home." The guy was begging to be offed, and while he doesn't quite share DonCorneo's comic rotundness, the guy's values were laughable. -Punts him- At any rate, I hope you're still reading despite your 'Yuffie-like patience', and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. XD_

_Izzia: XD I'm glad you appreciate the slow development of Reno and Yuffie's relationship… but what about of the fic? -Cringes- Really, apologies for the slow update, but hey, -laughs- Reffie tension isn't lacking in this chapter. The next one will definitely get things into full swing, but for now I hope this will do, yes? And stubborn is the exact word for it – if Reno and Yuffie weren't as bad as each other, and they got together at the drop of a hat, where would the fun be in writing them? Everyone likes a little challenge now and again. XD_

_Seventhe: One review is more than appreciated, and it's far from inadequate! This lets me know there're people reading, and the constructive comments you left me make for the best kind of feedback. Thank you _so_ much for your comments in regard to the development of my writing style; I've always loved to write, but during Smoke and Shattered Mirrors I found astyle that struck a chord. I aim to keep developing it as well as I can, obviously, and I'm only sorry I haven't been exercising it fic-wise. The development of Reno and Yuffie's relationship is slow, I realise, and while it's getting them used to each other, it helps test the waters for any potential relationship for them – Don't worry, I won't leave you high and dry -they'll get together. This century, even. ;)_

_Sors: Good to know you like them, man! Hope you're still reading. XD_

_Tamzin Summers: Aaaaand another new chapter, twice the length just to try and make up for all the absence. And -cackles- Yuffie always struck me as the possessive type, even over food – if it's hers, it's _hers_, ya know? -Grins-_

_Eternal Wanderer: No, you're right, it's off to a slow start. This story gets a different approach; a lot needed to happen before I could drop them off in the deep end, as it would've affected the plot and made things a lot more difficult in the long run. Now, though, you finally get a hint of the fact something's up, and all the waffle is over. Here's just hoping it doesn't take me another year to cough the next chapter up, eh? -Laughs- XD_

_Crystal Snowflakes: I'm glad you like.XD Elena demanded a decent entrance, and nearly mowing Yuff down seemed a lot less lame than have her just waltz up to the girl, yeah? XD_

_Tijuana Pirate: Hullo! I'm reading your comment "These chapters always seem to pop when I least expect them…" and I can't help cracking up laughing. Given up expecting an update on my part? XD I'm glad you like the banter – I've always found that a brilliant bonus to the Reffie. They're certainly not the type to sit around a table and sip tea now, are they? -grins- I'm glad you felt that Reno's seriousness wasn't out of place – the guy's been through a lot not to have been affected by it, and I can imagine Yuffie treading on some toes to get to where they're going. And… well, Eric? Youll see him a lot more, yes. I don't plan on dropping him off in a gutter, and I'd imagine if you'd read this chapter you'd've seen why.XD And -purrs- Your mention of Caesar salad has given me cravings now… Damnit. Trundles off to the kitchen to make herself some kai in between review replies. XD_

_The Inimitable DA: Hurrooooo! And pleh, I'm hoping this chapter will function well enough in an upload, although I'm usually shit outta luck with that kinda stuff. I see they've messed with the system a lot since I was last around, though, so -crosses fingers- here's hoping there's at least been some improvements over promises, eh?XD And yes, of course Reno saw Yuffie in the motel. But I'd imagine if he wants to keep his balls – or is waiting for the opportune moment for optimal embarrassment – then he'll keep his mouth shut until his time to shine.XD And hell yeah, Reno's getting good at making Yuffie boil. But hey, maybe it's only a matter of time before she does the same right back; maybe without intending on it.XD And… terror and asphalt? Babe, I think you just found me a future chapter name if I'm allowed to use it. XD -snug- Yuffieplus car equalsmurder charges.XD_

_Fyria: XD Oh dear, maybe you should be holding a stress ball and that way your Mum won't flake at your pointing and squealing?XD Well, I've stopped torturing Yuffie's stomach… a year after the fact. :o I'm pleased you like the dialogue, and also that you find my OC's an easy read; they're just part of the fun of putting a story together, and I find if an author makes them too intrusive they rub the story raw. I'm working to avoid it, if at all possible, without making them insignificant. Gotta have our bad guys, after all… -GrinsXD- And EEP! -Grimaces at the last comment… then hugs- Uh… Happy New Year, times two? _

_Solaria735: Elena added into the mix? One word is elementary, my dear Watson. Trouble.But seriously, glad you liked the chapter, of course, and I hope this one's the same! And a hookup this story? -Cackles- Let's see what I can do, eh? ;)_

_Akai Kuu: Reeeeed. -Snug!- And yes, I had to plug your fic, and DA's! They're awesome, yes, and YOU. -Pokes- Now that I've updated, you must update yours! -Meaningful footgnaw-.XD And yes, playful Reffie. They haven't stabbed each other yet, so -cackles- at least that's a bonus. And teh gasp! You did too name him! Eric, the chip man, named by Eileen. XD -Shoves him up in the spotlight with you-. Awhee, XD, and a driving instructor too. -Grins suddenly-. Rather relevant for you recently, isn't it? I think Yuffie'll have less luck than you with her driving ability, however. -Cackles madlyXD-_

_Vamptress RavZor: Mmm, gravy.XD And hey, at least she didn't get mowed… although chucking Elena into a car isn't exactly a genius idea. Better let Rude drive from now on. XD_

_Silverburner: Are you kidding? They yoyo more than the moon dancing around the earth, buddy. It's half the fun. -Grins- Hope you liked it, yes.XD_

_Well! -Phews- Until next time – which I swear will not be so far off! XD Thanks to everyone still reading for their patience. I deserve a solid kick for staying away so long, yes. _

_Ealinesse! (Planning out the next chapter as she types). _


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